


there is danger on the horizon

by aizensosuke



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bodyswap, Depression, Domestic, F/F, Hollowfication, M/M, Post-Canon, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2019-03-05
Packaged: 2019-09-15 03:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 70,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16925679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizensosuke/pseuds/aizensosuke
Summary: there cannot be a worse way to spend a winter holiday than taking care of the hollow inhabiting the body of your first love.alternatively: chad doesn't want to confront his feelings for ichigo but shiro does not know how to use the microwave.





	1. Chapter 1

Hunting down a band of rogue Arrancar across the city in the Human World is not how Chad wants to spend his holiday break from university.

When Kurosaki Ichigo’s name shows up on the screen of his cell phone, Chad debates with himself on whether or not he wants to answer the call. With his shoulder leaning against the doorway of his dorm room and his two suitcases set neatly just inside so he can retrieve them and be on his way, he stares down at the screen and listens to the soft chime of the ringtone he thought he would never hear again. Orihime still calls him at least once a week to talk about school and Uryu makes time to come visit so they can have lunch or just spend the day together, and he never holds it against Rukia when he doesn’t see her for three years.

Being a shinigami and a Captain, Rukia has more than enough to worry about.

Ichigo… Is different. They were supposed to stay close even after Chad left Karakura Town, supposed to hang out when they both had time because Ichigo was going to stay behind and train to be a doctor so he could take over his father’s clinic. For the first six months Chad was gone, they were good about sitting down to talk, about texting each other, about doing video calls where Chad never knew what to say and Ichigo fidgeted and laughed too much.

The last video call was mercifully short and Chad was careful to keep his hands away from the camera just in case Ichigo saw the bruises and asked him where they came from. Anyone else, Chad could have lied to without feeling the gnaw of guilt in his gut, and he would have been able to get away with it. Ichigo knows what strike bruises look like, after all.

They used to sit at his kitchen table and ice each other’s hands after a fight.

Chad could not answer. Chad could go on with the rest of his life and let this call go, and he would probably let Ichigo go as well. He doubts Ichigo would waste the time to call him again. Maybe it would be for the best. Maybe hanging onto a boy who twisted his heart up so badly that he took up boxing in university to work out some of his frustrations— and felt fucking  _ awful _ about it, felt like it was some kind of  _ betrayal _ — would be for the best. For both of them.

Before the call can shift to voicemail, Chad slides the green button and answers the phone.

_ “Chad!” _ Ichigo speaks before he can even say hello and the sound of his voice is enough to yank something in Chad’s chest, something small and fragile.  _ “I was worried I’d missed you or something. How have you been? You’re on break now, right?” _

“Officially, yes.” Chad glances down at his bags. He gave himself plenty of time to walk down to the bus stop that will take him to the train station, having promised Uryu he would come visit him. “I haven’t left the building yet, but I was getting ready to.”

_ “Oh.” _ A note in Ichigo’s voice gives him pause, something hesitant and uncertain.

They never used to sound like that when they talked to each other. They stuck their necks out for each other and protected each other. When it came to his inhuman strength, Chad taught himself restraint, self-control, and patience; Ichigo was the first person who ever gave him a reason to fight that he could feel good about. It was at Ichigo’s side that he learned the origin of that power and what to do with it, and now he uses it to knock sandbags off of bolted chains.

He might never have the restraint to hit another person in the ring, but there is that.

Chad sighs softly, shifts his phone from one hand to the other. “Did you have a reason to call?”

_ “I mean.” _ Ichigo is quiet and Chad waits patiently. Because of course there is a reason Ichigo is calling him. He would never just call to talk, not these days.  _ “We have a problem.” _

_ We. _ Chad wonders who  _ we _ constitutes these days. “What’s going on?”

_ “Urahara dropped in a few days ago and there are some Arrancar mobilizing in the Human World. No one is really sure how they got in.” _ The tone of Ichigo’s voice suggests he does know how such a thing occurred, and Chad feels almost hurt at not being let in on the information.

Almost. Because he and Ichigo keep secrets from each other now, and that is fine.

“If they were low-level, you wouldn’t be calling me.” The thought is distressing enough, that there are powerful enough Arrancar in the world that would necessitate more than just Ichigo.

Ichigo has the grace to laugh and Chad feels the corner of his mouth twitch at the familiar sound, the slight bloom of heat in his gut.  _ “Yeah, you get it. I wouldn’t bother you if I didn’t feel like I had to. I know it’s not… Not really your thing anymore.” _

That is almost enough for Chad to decline and hang up the phone. Ichigo has no idea what his “thing” is these days, has not talked to him in so long that Chad could probably make up some insane series of events and Ichigo would just believe them because he has no idea who Chad is as a person anymore. Such a statement is hardly fair. But he knows Ichigo is trying to be thoughtful in his own clumsy and stressed way.

Arrancar powerful enough to need a small army to take them down are a serious threat.

“I promised Ishida I’d spend the holidays with him.” He knows how that sounds and finds he does not mind so much these days. Even the slight inhale of Ichigo’s breath is not enough to make him backup and explain. “So I don’t know if I can make the time.”

Another laugh, this one strained.  _ “I already called Ishida and asked him for his help. Said his Quincy skills might be rusty these days but he’s on the way. He said he texted you.” _

Chad checks his phone screen and sees he does have an unread message. “He did. I must not have heard the notification when I was packing. How many Arrancar are there?”

_ “Four or five from the signatures Urahara picked up. We’re trying to mobilize as fast as possible to take them down before they do any serious damage. Inoue is coming, Rukia and a few shinigami are coming. Ishida is coming. Um…” _ Ichigo fades away into nothing and Chad closes his eyes; the thought of getting the gang back together is not as pleasing as it should be.  _ “I won’t push you if you don’t want to do it, but we’d appreciate it if you helped us.” _

It is not lost on Chad that a few years ago, Ichigo would have called him in the middle of the night, possibly first and definitely second, and never left room for Chad to say no. He would have treated it like a sure thing that Chad would say yes because this is how the two of them are, and Chad would have said yes and come to his side as quickly as possible. He would have taken a late train as soon as he hung up the phone, maybe forgot to pack clothing.

What happened to them? And does Chad really want to risk seeing him again?

“I’ll be there.” He should say no, but Chad has a hard time saying no to Kurosaki Ichigo.

The relieved sigh on the other end of the phone should not sound like that.  _ “Thank you so much, Chad, seriously. Just take the train and we’ll meet you there to discuss strategy.” _

“Of course.” He has a train ride to prepare himself for those brown eyes, for that incorrigible smile. “Tell Ishida we’ll find a way to salvage this holiday break when everything is done.”

Ichigo promises to, and Chad hangs up the phone and stares down at the device in his hand as he tries to remember if he packed his portable charger or not. Seeing his friends together once more is going to be a daunting experience to live through these days, which is not exactly what he would have expected before he left for university. Before he left home and all of the people he cared about behind to make something of a future for himself. Not all of them can remain as inhuman, godly beings who can take down ultimate evils when they arise.

That is not fair, and he knows it, but that is the reality of the situation. Ichigo lives in a state of being where he can always be called on to be the hero, and maybe that works for him. Chad needs a life and a future and something to do with all of his spare time.

And he needs something to do with all of his spare feelings, at that.

He has time to catch the bus, and the train, and he has a few hours to think about seeing Ichigo once more and what that is going to entail. The feelings that might arise— the same teenage anguish every time Ichigo smiled, the keen disappointment in himself— alongside the fact that Ichigo probably has a life now, too. One that would necessitate Chad only being a tangent of it instead of a main feature, one that would lead Ichigo to giving Chad a chance to say  _ no _ when their relationship used to be unquestioned reassurances.

Things change. People grow. And sometimes people grow apart.

Chad has a bus to catch. He does not have time to sit here and wonder about this.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Karakura Town, against all odds, is the same.

Chad should feel some sense of homecoming as he steps off of the bus he took from the train station to reach town, especially when he sees a familiar quartet of people waiting to greet him. As he holds one duffel bag by its short straps and adjusts the longer strap of the second over his shoulder, all he feels is a keen sense of regret. He should have stayed at school.

Rukia’s hair is longer now, a black inky river down her back that shows up violet in the cool winter light streaming down from the overcast sky. When she sees him, her eyes widen just a touch and he wonders if it might be that Chad’s hair is longer now, just a little longer because he meant to get it cut a few weeks ago and thought he might just wait until the last day of the holidays when he came back to university. Maybe it’s the muscles straining against his sweatshirt sleeves, a side effect of spending so much time building his muscles.

Maybe she, like Ichigo, did not expect him to say yes after all.

Orihime has her hair piled up on top of her head and she hops up and down on the balls of her feet when she sees him, breaking away from the others to meet him halfway, leaping up to throw her arms around his neck. She would miss, but he catches her around the waist and hauls her up the rest of the way, bending down to cross the distance. When she squeals and squeezes tight, he finally feels some semblance of good for making this choice.

They talk often, but he has not seen her in more time than he cares to think about.

“Your hair’s so long now.” She has to lean up on her toes to grasp a stray curl between the ends of her fingers, stretching it out and cocking her head. “Since when did you like such a look?”

“I haven’t had time to cut it,” he says, which is close enough to the truth for him.

Orihime hums thoughtfully and lets his hair go, pulling the sleeves of her sweater down closer to the tips of her fingers. The sleeves are overly long, the sweater baggy on her; she looks so cute and comfortable like this. “I can cut it for you before you go back if you want! It’s not very hard and I’ve been helping Rukia keep her hair trimmed lately.”

Rukia. Not Kuchiki-san. “It looks a lot longer than the last time I saw it.”

“I like it long.” Rukia shakes his hand instead of going for a hug, which Chad respects. He would have been confused if she had. “Orihime’s convinced me to try a longer look recently.”

Orihime. Not Inoue. “It suits you. You look a lot more serious these days.”

“I’m a Captain now, so it works out, I suppose.” Rukia offers him a half-smile and when she steps back, her hand finds Orihime’s beneath the sleeve of her sweater, their fingers twining together like they belong like that. “What have you been doing these days?”

Chad has gloves on because of the cold, so for the moment, he can lie. “Studying, mostly. I’m going to become a veterinarian and work in an animal shelter, I think.”

“That would suit you,” Orihime agrees, and she looks like she approves.

Uryu is the same as the last time Chad talked to him, offering him a hand and a slight smile. He looks good, hair a little longer now, a little shaggier, but everything about him is just as poised as ever. His sweater is soft; Chad knows he made it himself.

“Sorry about this,” he says, as if the Arrancar invasion is his fault. “I didn’t mean to mess up our plans like this, but we’ll find some way to salvage things, right?”

“Of course,” Chad says, because he means that. He wants to salvage it.

Hanging at the back of the group, Ichigo only makes himself known once the others have said their hellos and Chad feels at least somewhat comfortable with all of them again. His hair is long and shaggy like it’s grown out from the style it was starting on when Chad last saw his face, and there are lines around his eyes and mouth that weren’t there before. There might have been more than an Arrancar invasion, but Chad has no idea. This is all Ichigo has told him about.

Like Orihime, his sweater does not fit. The fabric is too loose on him, long enough that it hangs down his thighs, the sleeves keeping most of his hands hidden from view. He looks warm and Chad thinks that if he embraced him, Ichigo would feel soft in his arms and like he was meant to fit there, so he keeps his hands to himself and to be safe, shoves them into the pockets of his jeans. Ichigo offers him a smile, but it looks strained and tired.

When did it become like this between them?

It’s probably better that it did in the end.

“Chad.” Ichigo lifts his chin in greeting and Chad hums in response, not wanting to be rude but not entirely sure what to say. “Not to cut everything short…”

“But we have a big mission ahead of us,” Uryu says, always better with words and raised by someone who speaks eloquently. “And we need to figure out how system as quickly as possible so we can handle the Arrancar before they become a problem. We can talk at my place.”

Chad wonders momentarily why Ichigo’s place would not be more convenient, seeing as the clinic should be nearby. But he merely nods and hitches the strap of his bag higher up on his shoulder. “Sounds good to me. We can talk after all of this is over.”

The walk is not a long one, but long enough to put into perspective just how much has changed. Orihime and Rukia walk hand-in-hand and talk enough about Soul Society that Chad thinks Orihime must visit often enough to see Rukia, and that makes him feel something warm and soft in his chest at the thought. Uryu stays near him, asks him a few questions about classes and offers to help him study for an upcoming test if they have time.

Ichigo walks slightly ahead of all of them, and he says nothing. And Chad wonders.

Uryu’s apartment is as clean as always and after Chad sets his bags down in the guest room and visits the bathroom, they all sit down at the kitchen table to talk. Orihime and Rukia’s chairs are tilted toward each other and Uryu serves them all tea, as efficient as always in the small but clean kitchen. Ichigo props his chin up on the heel of his hand. He looks exhausted.

“Do we know who the Arrancar are?” Chad asks, and the word sounds wrong on his tongue.

Rukia sighs softly and nods once, and her expression is grim. “The Arrancar appear to be former Espada of Aizen’s army. No one knows how this could be, given that they appeared to be dead when we last saw them. Urahara felt one of their signatures and recognized it.”

The thought is slightly distressing; Chad remembers little about the Arrancar. All he remembers are heels, a leering violet eye and inhuman teeth that haunt his nightmares on the coldest and darkest nights. Even the last trace of his power was not enough to do anything to stop the monster that would nearly kill Ichigo, whose partner beat him and bloodied him.

If even one of those Arrancar is alive, perhaps Chad can get something like revenge on them.

“They haven’t done anything yet, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t take preemptive measures to get them back to Hueco Mundo where they belong,” Uryu says, and Chad nods in agreement. Letting Arrancar wander around the Human World is simply not safe.

Ichigo sighs and stretches his arms over his head. “So, where do we want to begin?”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Killing such high level Arrancar is difficult in and of itself but the goal is just to get them to go back to Hueco Mundo and perhaps seal them out of the Human World. They manage that, but just barely. It should be easier; Ichigo has vast amounts of power at his disposal at seemingly all times and Chad has never known him to be stingy with it. It usually bursts out of him bright and radiant, blinding everyone and everything that would stand against him.

When the smoke has cleared and the garganta are sealed and Urahara Kisuke is certain they will not have such issues in the future, Chad retracts his own power and stumbles to where Ichigo kneels in the dust and the debris. He looks awful, his kosode torn and ripped, his skin streaked with blood and dirt. If he hears Chad coming, he never raises his head to greet him, to reassure him in a petulant tone that he is fine, that it was just a fight and they won besides.

Ichigo is not fine. That much, Chad is sure of.

He drops his hand heavily on Ichigo’s shoulder, his mouth just falling open around the sound of his friend’s name when Ichigo  _ snarls _ and rips away from him as quickly as possible.

The reaction is immediate and sudden and Chad does not expect it, his eyes widening and his mouth snapping shut as he stares at where Ichigo scowls up at him from the ground. No longer on his knees, crouched down and his muscles coiled tight like he’s prepared to spring forward and fight. There is a wound on his forehead, dripping blood that runs down the side of his nose.

It is this brilliant crimson trail that draws Chad’s gaze to Ichigo’s eyes. When he was younger, he dreamed of those eyes, soft and as deep as the earth itself, a rich warm brown that always managed to take his breath away.

Those eyes are now black, golden irises peering up at him like a wounded, trapped predator.

“Ichigo?” It’s a question, not a statement. The name makes Ichigo’s mouth twist into a growl.

“Yasutora, wait.” Rukia is at his side in an instant, Sode no Shirayuki drawn and at the ready. “That’s not Ichigo now. That’s what his face looks like when his Hollow mask is on.”

But there is no mask in place. Not even Ichigo’s long black coat, a symbol of his bankai form, is present. He looks like himself except for those eyes, that expression. “But the mask—”

“What fucking  _ mask? _ ” The voice is raspy and hoarse from disuse, strange and contorted in a way that does not quite sound human and sends a shiver down Chad’s spine. “What’s going on? What the fuck happened? I’m not supposed to be out here.”

Bloodied and bruised hands rise slowly, those gold eyes not quite comprehending the sight in front of him as he staggers to his feet. Rukia stays between them but Chad… Chad could handle him if he had to, that much he is sure of. Ichigo or not, he has the limitations of Ichigo’s human body and Chad has spent so much of his life watching Ichigo fight and learning the language of his body that he could easily handle Ichigo if he really had to.

“Who are you?” Rukia demands, the command in her voice impossible to ignore.

That familiar head swivels and Chad thinks that Ichigo’s hair— It’s too long, falling into his wrong eyes, matting with mud and blood. “Who the fuck are  _ you? _ ”

“Kuchiki Rukia, Captain of the Thirteenth Division.” Rukia stares him down, and Ichigo’s lips split into a wide smile. “You’re… You’re the Hollow that lives inside of Ichigo.”

“That would be correct.” The way the creature cackles makes the hairs on the back of Chad’s neck stand on end and if he hadn’t just fought a handful of powerful Arrancar, maybe he could be more forgiving about this situation. Instead, he is just  _ exhausted. _ “Where’s King? I’m only used to hanging around when he’s fighting, but he’s… He’s quiet.”

“King,” Uryu says slowly, uncertainly, coming to stand at Chad’s side.

The Hollow eyes him with distaste before sniffing once. “Ichigo. Where is he?”

“I. You’re inside of him.” Uryu whips out his cell phone and turns the front-facing camera on, holding it up where the Hollow can see. “We’re just as perplexed as you are.”

Very slowly, the Hollow stalks across the would-be battlefield and peers into the screen of the cell phone for a long, long moment. One hand rises slowly, picking a few orange strands of hair off of his forehead, pulling it out of the blood drying on his skin. Long orange lashes flutter, gold eyes blinking a few times before he straightens up with a dissatisfied expression on his face.

“Well,” he says slowly, drawing the word out for a long moment. “Fuck me.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

“I think it must have been the scientist Arrancar who made this happen,” Urahara says conversationally after he finishes his examination of the Hollow, who paces around Uryu’s apartment like an animal full of pent-up frustration in a very small cage. “He tried a bevy of attacks specifically meant to target our weakest points based on his research. Certainly this is an effective tactic, since our lovely Hollow companion is here now with us all.”

In answer, the Hollow snarls at him. “Don’t fucking call me that. I’m no one’s  _ companion. _ ”

“You need to get in the shower.” Uryu eyes his muddy clothes, his bloody skin. “Get in the shower and clean up and then Inoue can heal your wounds, good as new. No arguments.”

The Hollow’s eyes narrow at him, lips peeling back. “I don’t take orders from  _ Quincy. _ ”

Which must make living in Ichigo’s Inner World— which he  _ shares _ with a Quincy— interesting.

“Please get in the shower,” Chad tries instead, and the Hollow looks at him, his eyes widening once more to their usual shape. Not like Ichigo’s own— But close. “We understand you must be very frustrated right now, but you are very dirty from the fighting and you are also injured.”

Sighing, the Hollow yanks at his shirt. “King usually handles this shit so I don’t have to.”

“I’ll show you to the bathroom.” Better than sitting in this room, feeling the tension and not knowing how to alleviate it with no clear end in sight.

The Hollow follows him through Uryu’s apartment to the bathroom, and Chad runs him through how to adjust the temperature with a warning that Ichigo’s skin can only handle the water being so hot or so cold before it starts to injure him. He shows him which soap to use and tells him how to use it, the Hollow just giving quick, disinterested nods and making a valiant effort to go through Uryu’s medicine cabinet when Chad turns his back for five seconds.

“There’s nothing in there for you,” he says, closing the door firmly. “Get undressed and get in the shower, get cleaned up for now. Urahara is going to figure out some way for you to—”

“Fuck!” The Hollow attempts to yank his shirt over his head and manages to aggravate the wound on his head, maybe even the soreness in his arms. “I  _ hate _ this body so fucking much.”

Chad takes two deep breaths so he can brace. “Would you like help taking your shirt off?”

“You should since this is your fault. If the rest of you could just get on without him, then King wouldn’t have to—” The Hollow stops himself, jaw clenched, then nods once. “Yes.”

Then Ichigo wouldn’t have to be on the frontlines every single time they need to fight. “Do you have a name, or are we supposed to just refer to you as a Hollow?”

“A name? I don’t… I haven’t needed one. I guess Shiro is fine, since. You know.” The Hollow gestures to himself and Chad assumes he must be referring to the fact that his true form is white instead of Ichigo’s normal human skin. “Be  _ gentle. _ I’m fucking exhausted right now.”

“You aren’t the only one, you know.” But Chad is careful as he grips the edge of Ichigo’s sweater and lifts it over his head, careful not to touch the wound, easy around his joints.

Shiro makes a disgusted expression at the sight of his own body and when he reaches for the waistband of his pants, Chad is out of the door to leave him to his privacy. That, and he has no desire to see Ichigo’s naked body if Ichigo cannot consent to him seeing it. It would be wrong.

“What have we figured out?” he asks when he returns to the kitchen, dropping down at the table.

Urahara’s expression is grim. “From what I can tell, the warm, fuzzy, and  _ delightful _ presence that is currently in possession of Ichigo’s body is, in fact, his Inner Hollow—”

“Shiro,” Chad interrupts, and everyone stares at him for an uncomfortably long moment.

“Shiro,” Urahara echoes slowly before giving a short nod. “Shiro is in possession of Ichigo’s body. We know he’s surfaced in the past and that Ichigo was able to defeat him in order to gain control of his Hollow abilities much like the Visored shinigami are able to. However, he’s never been in possession of Ichigo’s body so completely. He says he can’t find him in his Inner World.”

Which means that Ichigo. Ichigo might not be around anymore, and the thought is not one Chad is ready to deal with, so he shoves it firmly into the back of his mind and nods. “I see.”

“I’m going to go back to Soul Society and bring Hirako Shinji here to see if there is anything he can do to help us,” Rukia says, pushing herself to her feet, casting a nervous glance in the direction of the bathroom. “Please manage things here the best you can in my absence.”

She is asking them to babysit the Hollow living inside of Ichigo’s skin. Comparatively, this is something that Chad can handle without much issue, so he nods in agreement and Orihime walks out of the apartment with Rukia. She will probably be back soon, but until then.

Chad levels Uryu with a steady gaze. “He’s not happy about this. Shiro, I mean. He’s not used to having a body that can feel pain and it’s distressing to him, and he’s not. He hasn’t done a lot of the things Ichigo is used to doing, so let’s try to be as gentle as possible.”

Uryu studies his face for a long moment. “Are you telling me he didn’t know how to use the shower? We can’t leave him on his own at this rate. He’d level Ichigo’s apart—”

He snaps his mouth shut a second too late, but Chad lets the slip go.

So Ichigo has an apartment now that no one told him about. That’s fine. Maybe Ichigo asked them  _ not _ to tell Chad, which is something to consider down the road when the two of them can have a proper conversation about this that does not include Shiro. For now, Chad sips the tea in front of him and pretends like none of this bothers him at all.

There is a stranger living inside of Ichigo’s skin and they have no idea how he got there and no idea how to send him back to where he came from. A battle that should have gone down flawlessly did not go down well at all, and maybe they all need to sit down and reconsider just how much they depend on Ichigo to take care of all of them. But until then… Shiro. Chad will keep an eye on him and refuse to think about how that is, at least, comparatively easy.


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro refuses to emerge from the bathroom without clothing, and because Ichigo’s clothing is ruined, Chad goes through one of his suitcases until he finds a pair of jeans, a sweatshirt, and a pair of boxers that will suit him. Uryu offers first and the Hollow  _ hisses _ at him through the door, obviously not thrilled with the idea of dressing in a Quincy’s clothing, so Chad makes the small sacrifice of loaning him clothing. Five minutes later, Shiro steps into the hallway, blinking out from underneath Ichigo’s too-long and shaggy fringe, the ends still damp enough to threaten to drip onto the carpet, which is not what they need.

“No.” Chad presses a hand to his shoulder and Shiro scowls up at him, lips pulling back from his teeth. “Your hair’s too wet and you need to brush it. If you leave it like this, it’ll tangle.”

“I don’t want to.” Shiro is petulant and aggravated, eyes flashing with warning.

_ Fine. _ “Then I’ll do it for you. All you have to do is hold still.”

He expects an argument but Shiro steps back into the bathroom and Chad retrieves his towel, carefully ruffling his hair with the terry cloth until it’s merely damp and using Uryu’s brush to neaten it. Taking care of a pouting Hollow is easier than dealing with reality at the moment.

This is, perhaps, a sharp turn for the worst Chad does not want to think about right now.

The wound on his head is less serious now that it is clean, and Orihime’s power is strong enough to make the wound vanish in mere minutes on top of that. Shiro touches his forehead two or three times before he seems satisfied with this and drops down on Uryu’s couch.

“So, what do we do now?” he asks, pushing Chad’s sleeves up his slender forearms.

“We wait until Rukia comes back with Hirako and then we go from there,” Uryu says, and he sounds incredibly unhappy with the situation, not that Chad can blame him. “Are you sure you can’t sense Ichigo in your Inner World? Maybe you’re just not trying hard enough.”

Of course, Shiro growls. “It’s  _ my _ home. No one could know it better than I do.”

“The Quincy who lives inside of Ichigo,” Urahara prompts, and Shiro huffs air through his nose, pulling his legs up against his chest, wrapping his arms around them. “Can you sense him?”

“Of course I do. He’s always there, the motherfucker.” Shiro rests his chin on his knees, and he looks remarkably tired for a moment before he sighs softly. “He’s concerned, too, and he can’t find Ichigo either. But if he were dead, we would both be dead alongside him.”

This should be reassuring and calming, the knowledge that Ichigo must be alive for both of the spirits who live inside of his soul to remain together, but Chad feels nothing more than that creeping dread in the back of his mind. If Ichigo is not in his Inner World, then where is he?

“You two don’t get along,” Uryu murmurs, and Shiro pointedly rolls his eyes at him.

“‘Course not. Old man gets on my last goddamn nerve but we work damn well together when we really have to. He’s part of King, just like I am. So I tolerate him.” Shiro balls up a fist, knocks himself in the chest with it, and Chad nods. Because it makes enough sense to him, that this wild and untamable creature would find kinship in someone he despises for the sake of Ichigo. Haven’t all of them come to that understanding? “But who the fuck did this to us?”

Uryu sits down in one of his chairs and sighs, removing his glasses to polish the lenses. “Likely it was Szayelaporro Granz, one of the resurrected Arrancar. Say, you’re a Hollow. Do you know anything about Arrancar being able to come back from the dead like this?”

Shiro cocks his head, dragging his teeth across his lower lip. “Nope. But then I didn’t spend much time around them. I grew inside of King, not out in Hueco Mundo.”

“Right, of course.” Uryu shakes his head. “Aizen has been in Muken this whole time, right?”

Urahara nods, sipping from his mug of tea. “He has been. If he escaped, we would have known a long time ago. He can’t use his powers where he’s imprisoned. So he isn’t responsible.”

Chad looks at Shiro curled up into a small ball and clears his throat. “Do you want some tea?”

“What.” Shiro looks up at him. “Do I want tea? Uh, I dunno, I guess that’s fine.”

While Chad busies himself with making Shiro a cup of tea, Orihime dares to walk closer to him. “How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do? Did I heal all of your wounds?”

Naturally, Shiro growls at her. “I’m fine, woman. Get the hell away from me. I want  _ space. _ ”

“I think everyone is forgetting that he is likely just as upset by this sudden change as the rest of us are,” Chad says evenly, bringing the mug to Shiro who takes it with uncertain hands, brows furrowing as he looks down into the mug. “Give him some space and some time to process this. Until we can figure out how to reverse this, we can at least treat him with suitable respect.”

Shiro sips his tea, smacks his lips together thoughtfully. “This is actually not bad.”

“Thank you,” Uryu says. “So, okay, if we can’t reverse this today, what do we do? I’m just a little bit against housing someone who sees me as an enemy even if it’s for Ichigo.”

“We could just take him back to Kurosaki-kun’s apartment and let him stay there since it’s technically his home,” Orihime offers, then sighs and plays with the hem of her sweater. “But I’m concerned. If he couldn’t use the shower without help, would that perhaps not be a safe thing?”

Urahara hums. “I could take him back to my shop, but I don’t think he’d want to do that. Ichigo’s apartment would probably at least feel more like home than any of this does.”

“King’s place is my place,” Shiro says, and that concludes the conversation more or less.

Chad… Should not say what comes out of his mouth, but he goes and does it anyway. “Ichigo’s apartment is where you want to stay, but we’re concerned with your ability to figure out technology on your own. Is there anyone you’d be comfortable having in the apartment with you? Or perhaps someone we can contact to stay with you until this is over.”

Assuming a Hollow who doesn’t hang around in their world must have friends is  _ stupid. _

“Um.” Shiro drinks his tea and hands the empty mug back to Chad, which is. It’s fine. “No.”

Orihime presses her hands between her thighs. “One step forward and two steps back.”

Golden eyes flash up at Chad, studying his expression intently before the Hollow abruptly pokes him hard in the side. “What about  _ you? _ You’re the only person here who doesn’t dislike me.”

“He’s staying with me,” Uryu quickly interrupts, “and  _ you _ aren’t going to take advantage of his good will because you don’t know what you’re doing. As long as you don’t touch anything and go right home and go to sleep or something, everything is going to be fine.”

“He can’t just sleep the entire time that Ichigo’s missing,” Orihime insists gently.

“I can stay with him,” Chad says, and Shiro lifts his chin before tucking himself back into a ball, clearly unhappy in his surroundings, or maybe just in present company. Hard to tell with someone like him. Admittedly, Chad feels bad for him. He never asked for this; Chad at least had the option to say no and was too stupid to take it. “Keep him from burning the place down.”

Shiro clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Fine by me. Doesn’t sound like a lot of fun, though.”

“Probably not. Living isn’t always that fun,” Chad tells him, and Shiro considers him thoughtfully.

“You’ll need to take care of Ichigo’s body until he’s back to take it over, so you’ll have to shower and eat and keep yourself clean,” Uryu says, and the Hollow makes a disgusted noise, waving a hand at him as if to silence him. “Speaking of, when was the last time Ichigo ate?”

A pink tongue peeks between Shiro’s lips. “But I don’t  _ want _ to eat human food.”

“Understandable,” Chad tells him, and Shiro makes a noise that is clearly meant to inspire some kind of sympathy in him, but Chad knows better. At least, for now he does. “But you need to.”

It takes quite a bit of coaxing to draw him back into the kitchen and Chad makes him a sandwich with what he finds in Uryu’s refrigerator, choosing meat over anything else because it must be as close to something a Hollow might eat as he can get. Another Hollow… Would probably be more beneficial, but Chad has no desire to attempt to hunt one down even though he knows Uryu likely has Hollow Bait somewhere in the apartment that they could use.

Can Ichigo’s body even digest such spiritual matter? Chad does  _ not _ want to think about that.

“I don’t want this,” Shiro says, poking the bread when Chad sets the sandwich in front of him.

“Everyone is making a very big deal about Ichigo’s health, but as you’re occupying his body, you’ll likely have to deal with the same limits,” Chad tells him, sitting down at the table with him. The fact everyone else has been talking about Ichigo has not escaped his knowledge.

Ichigo is their friend. He gets it. But Shiro is here now, and obviously miserable.

“If you don’t eat,” he continues, keeping his voice as even as possible, not wanting it to sound like any kind of pressure is being set upon the Hollow’s shoulders, “your energy levels will deplete and your body will suffer. You won’t be able to fight well. You don’t have to manage this because Ichigo does, but now it’s your responsibility. At least try it.”

Golden eyes flicker with annoyance before Shiro rips off a piece of sandwich. “Fine, then.”

It takes him a significantly longer amount of time to finish the sandwich than most people would have needed but Chad bribes him with tea and he looks like he’s feeling better after he finishes the food, which is good. He needs to eat if he can. The expression he gives Chad as he dusts the crumbs on the table off onto the floor— which Uryu thankfully does not see— is one of a put-upon martyr who feels like they have finally done enough.

“Very good.” Chad pats him on top of the head and golden burns flash with murder for half a second before callused fingers suddenly wrap around his forearm.

It should alarm him that the Hollow has such fast reflexes even inside of Ichigo’s body, but Chad simply remains still and watches Shiro lean back to examine his arm. His eyes burn with curiosity for a long moment, his lips twisted into a frown before he peers up at Chad.

“You smell like me.” He sniffs at Chad’s skin and Chad wonders what the hell that is supposed to mean half a second before it clicks into place. “You smell like Hollow power.”

Shiro is talking about his Fullbringer power, which is based heavily in Hollow ability; he was probably too busy during all of their epic battles to notice one of Ichigo’s allies fighting alongside all of them had such powers, or maybe he never cared long enough to consider it. Both are just as likely as one another given that Shiro hardly seems like he cares about anyone beyond himself and Ichigo, not even for the Quincy that lives inside of Ichigo’s Inner World.

“Yes,” Chad agrees, and Shiro blinks up at him. “Maybe I’ll show you one day. Now let go.”

To his surprise, Shiro lets go rather quickly, folded hands coming to rest on the table top, but he never quite drops the expression that glitters dark in his eyes.

Chad might have gotten his attention in the worst way possible.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

“Well, would you look at this.” Hirako Shinji bends at the waist, one hand sliding through the heavy fall of his long golden hair to push it back behind his ear as he narrows his eyes in the face of the Hollow who snarls and leans away from him almost immediately. “Never seen one on the outside before. How’d you get out of his Inner World?”

“If I knew,” Shiro says slowly, leaning into Shinji’s face, “I wouldn’t fucking  _ be _ here.”

“Ease up,” Chad says automatically, and Shinji makes a dismissive sound as he leans away from Shiro, who shoves himself violently back into his chair as hard as possible. “I don’t know how much Kuchiki-san told you on the way here, but none of us know what’s going on.”

“So she said.” Shinji drums his long fingers on the table top before sitting down heavily, curling his fingers beneath his chin as he fixes Shiro with a discerning glance. “I have to say, I’m intrigued. I’ve never known an Inner Hollow to pull this off after it’s been controlled.”

Shiro’s entire body twitches at the mention of  _ control _ but he says nothing and Chad rewards him, running a soothing hand through his hair that Shiro leans up into. He knows nothing about Hollows but physical touch so far seems fine and he never quite tries to snap at Chad the way he does the others, so that has to count for something. Probably for the best considering Chad promised he would watch over him in Ichigo’s apartment until they get this sorted out.

Urahara sighs, paper fan lazily waving in the air before his face. “I see. You’ve never had a similar problem yourself? Not even an inkling of a similar situation?”

“In the very beginning maybe, but that was when the masks were first forced on us and before we got everything under control. However.” Shinji stretches out a hand and Shiro shoves himself up out of his chair, walking pointedly away from Shinji’s reach. “He’s not wearing a mask.”

As far as the size of the apartment, there are only so many places for Shiro to go and Chad watches him slam the door of the guest bedroom shut behind him with a sigh. He knows this has to be frustrating for Shiro as much as it is for the rest of them, but what to do about that? They need to find Ichigo and return him to his own body, and that means reaching out to one of the only Shinigami who has any kind of experience with Hollows and Inner Worlds.

“I have to say, this don’t make sense to me.” Shinji props his feet up in the chair Shiro left behind, taking a sip from the cup of tea Uryu made him. “Yeah, we had trouble taming our Hollows, don’t get me wrong. But the mask isn’t there, so it’s not the same thing.”

“He said he’s having trouble finding Ichigo in his Inner World,” Urahara says helpfully, and Shinji makes a face that implies he absolutely does not believe that shit one bit. “For what it’s worth, he doesn’t like being here and hates everything about this, so I think he’s telling the truth.”

Chad stares at the bedroom door for a long moment before he heaves a sigh and walks around the table. “I’ll go get him. Just don’t try to touch him without asking again.”

“Sado.” Uryu clears his throat and Chad raises an eyebrow at him, waiting. “Can we talk?”

The implication is not necessarily a positive one but Chad nods, casting one last glance in the direction of the door before following Uryu out onto the small balcony attached to his living room, one that overlooks a decent view of the city. The air is cold but here, they are out of the wind and so it feels almost pleasant. Uryu still breathes on his hands, rubbing them together for a moment before cramming them into his pockets and looking up at Chad.

“I know things have been weird between you and Kurosaki,” he says, and Chad sighs. “No, I know. Because he’s… Said some things. I mean, he didn’t want us to tell you about his place so I know it’s been… I don’t know, actually. What happened. But you do not have to go out of your way to babysit his Inner Hollow just because something happened between you two.”

Chad rubs a hand over the back of his neck, meeting Uryu’s earnest blue eyes without any form of hesitation or embarrassment. “What do you think happened, Ishida?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about this situation. I just.” Uryu looks down at his feet, shuffles his shoes on the balcony before peeking up through his hair. “I just don’t want you getting involved with this monster because it’s dangerous even if it looks like Ichigo.”

Gently, Chad rests a hand on Uryu’s shoulder. “I know it is. I remember when Ichigo told us about how he had to fight it in order to tame it. But Shiro doesn’t want to be here any more than we want him to be here, so I don’t think he wants to cause us any trouble.”

“Shiro,” Uryu says, shaking his head. “I can’t believe it has a name… Just be careful, okay? For me. Because we can’t do anything this break if you end up getting eaten by a Hollow.”

The edge of his tone is a joke but Chad knows better, taking a step closer to him and wrapping an arm around his slender shoulders, pulling Uryu up against his chest. The soft inhale of Uryu’s breath is all he needs to know that this was needed and then Uryu’s hands are there, resting on top of his shoulders, fingers pressing into his skin through his sweatshirt. The city is quiet and the sliding glass door and blinds in front of it obscure everyone else in the apartment, leaving just the two of them in this quiet little moment with one another.

“I won’t let anything happen to me,” he says, and Uryu breathes a sigh against his chest. “You have to trust me. I’m only doing this because one of us needs to do it.”

“Inoue is the most nurturing out of all of us but I don’t think the Hollow likes her very much,” Uryu admits, and Chad hums in agreement. Shiro doesn’t really like  _ any _ of them.

He should step away from Uryu now but neither of them make a move to break the half-embrace, Uryu’s hands sliding around to rest on his shoulder blades, as he presses himself up against Chad’s chest. Unlike Chad’s muscular figure and Ichigo’s lean but strong torso, Uryu is still slender and light enough that Chad could still easily throw Uryu up over his shoulder and take off with him if they should ever have the need.

Maybe it was strange to have a thought like that right now, but Chad hardly minds. He just rests his chin on top of Uryu’s head and lets him cling for a moment.

“This is hard on all of us, you know. No need to take the lion’s share of the responsibility.” Uryu leans back to look up at him and he tries to make his expression hard, but he looks exhausted, and Chad remembers that the rest of them knew about the Arrancar before he did. That he was the last one called. And he tries not to let that bother him, but it’s hard when he can visibly see just how much of the strain has fallen onto Uryu’s shoulders.

Ichigo is going to have to get over making everything between them awkward and strained.

“It’s not hard for me to do it,” he says, and Uryu makes a dismissive noise up at him before curling into his chest once more, tucking his face against the front of Chad’s sweatshirt. “He isn’t so bad. He’s shocked and confused and tired just like the rest of us are.”

Uryu exhales slowly and nods, turns his head a little to press his cheek against Chad’s chest. “I suppose so. I didn’t think of it like that. Maybe it’s because the Hollow is so rude to me.”

“Shiro,” Chad corrects, and Uryu makes a noise up at him. “At least call him by name. He’s not going to magically go away once we find Ichigo and get him back. He lives inside of him.”

“I suppose that’s true.” Uryu sighs, drags a hand across his eyes. “All right. Okay. I get it.”

Slowly, Chad eases his other arm around Uryu’s waist and hugs him properly, letting his larger body fold around Uryu’s until the rhythm of their breathing is the same. It calms Uryu somewhat and Chad… Chad is just glad to help no matter what it takes.

The sound of the sliding glass door opening startles them both just before a familiar face pokes its way between the blinds; golden eyes flash with annoyance. “Tch. I don’t want to stay here anymore. All of these useless shinigami aren’t doing me any damned good.”

Uryu, who leapt away from Chad as soon as the door opened and is now leaning against the balcony, huffs and straightens his sweater. His cheeks are too pink to be innocent, but maybe Shiro has no idea how human reactions work. “Well, you leaving isn’t going to do Kurosaki any good. Are you going to let him drown in your Inner World forever?”

Shiro’s eye twitches. “He isn’t  _ drowning. _ That was one time and I…  _ We _ … Were there.”

We. Shiro and the Quincy spirit. Chad sighs softly and tips his head back. “Shiro—”

“Don’t fucking say my name like that.” Shiro slams the door shut hard enough that Chad expects the glass to crack, but it doesn’t.

“You should probably take him back to Kurosaki’s apartment before he destroys mine,” Uryu quips, and he sounds so exhausted. Keeping Shiro here much longer is only going to stress him further, and that is the last thing Chad wants right now.

“I can do that.” Might as well see if he can get Shiro settled; the sky is darkening on the horizon, and evening is on the way. “Once this is over, that break.”

“Right.” Uryu smiles softly and nods once. “That break. Now take that tornado home.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Ichigo’s apartment is not far from Uryu’s but Shiro is sullen on the entire walk, hands shoved into the pocket of his borrowed jeans and utterly silent despite the fact he spent his last ten minutes in Uryu’s apartment raving at Shinji in a failed attempt to raise the Hollow beneath his skin. Though the others looked viewed this through the lens of a child acting up petulantly, Chad thought he sensed something desperate in that meager attempt to cause trouble. Shiro’s behavior now only makes him think he must have been almost right, like he’s on the verge of discovering the truth.

He has the key to the apartment and lets them in, Shiro pushing past him and into the living room. “This is Ichigo’s place, so maybe you’ll feel more comfortable here.”

“It’s clean. I hate it.” Shiro stalks around the room like an animal, nose twitching as his head swivels, sharp eyes taking in every detail. “It’s so  _ calm. _ King lives like this?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t been here before.” Chad sets his bag down just inside of the door and locks up, not keen on this wild Hollow breaking loose onto the streets.

After he’s satisfied himself of the apartment, Shiro drops down on the couch and lets his head fall into his hands, fingers running through Ichigo’s shaggy orange hair while Chad looks around. He finds a guest bedroom, which is better than he was expecting, and makes himself at home in the small space in an effort to give Shiro as much personal space as he could possibly want right now. That, and being alone with him is certainly stressful.

Ichigo’s Hollow is wild and impulsive and violent, a Vasto Lorde if Chad remembers correctly, one that when released was difficult to control and could have levelled Hueco Mundo if he really wanted to. Beautiful and fierce and not meant to be kept in a cage of human skin and moral fragility, but here they are.

What is he supposed to do with a Hollow who is not supposed to be here at all?

He must be taking too long to unpack because it’s not long until he feels a pair of eyes watching him from the doorway, Shiro leaning against the wood while he gnaws on the sleeve of Chad’s shirt. When he catches Chad watching him, he stretches the fabric with his teeth before letting it go, running his tongue slowly over his lips.

Something feels significantly off in such a gesture.

“Where did you get your Hollow powers from?” he asks, watching Chad unpack.

“My mother was attacked by a Hollow before I was born. All Fullbringers can say the same.” Chad reaches for that power and pulls it slowly and carefully over his arms, watching Shiro’s eyes widen at the sight. “You can touch, if you want.”

Slowly, Shiro prowls across the room and sits down next to him on the bed, stretching out one hand to rest on Chad’s forearm. Something in his breathing is skittery and uneven, something strange in the way he touches Chad’s arm with such a delicate brush of fingers.

“This is cool.” He licks his lips again. “We should fight. You can use this against me.”

Oh. Of course. Hollows are naturally violent creatures, predators who are forced to spend their time hunting and killing in order to evolve from more than just a tortured and twisted soul. Shiro was not brought up in such a way but the natural instinct is still there, maybe worse considering the Hollow that Aizen bred— the Hollow that bred Shiro— was nothing even close to normal. It would make perfect sense for Shiro to be strange, too, to be different from a natural Hollow.

Maybe they should contact Grimmjow and introduce them. Shiro could fight him.

“I don’t want to fight.” Chad shakes him off and sees disappointment and annoyance and outright anger all warring for control of Shiro’s face. “If you have a problem with that, you will simply have to deal with it. I am not naturally a violent person.”

Shiro throws himself across Chad’s bed, full-on pouting. “I don’t  _ like _ sitting around.”

“What did you do when you were in Ichigo’s Inner World?” Considering there was only one other being there— an enemy— it was bound to have gotten lonely.

Instead, Shiro’s eyes darken with malevolent glee. “Zangetsu and I pass the time with each other well enough. Fighting, sparring, bitching at each other. He’s not so bad.”

They sound terrible for each other, so of course Shiro likes him. “Well, I’m not going to spar with you endlessly until we find out where Ichigo has gone. That is his body. If anything happened to it, I would never be able to forgive myself.”

“Fine, fine. You and that Quincy, then.” Shiro props his chin up on his hand, and his eyes cut into Chad’s soul. Maybe he’s trying to decide if he wants to eat him or not. Does he need to eat souls now that he has control of Ichigo’s body? Can he, even? “I saw the two of you out on the balcony. King would find that really interesting, personally, I think.”

“I highly doubt Ichigo has time to worry about the relationships his friends have with one another,” Chad says. He doesn’t want to think about what happens if Ichigo does.

But Shiro only smiles, a flash of white teeth. “Wouldn’t you be surprised? King thinks about that a lot. Sometimes he and Zangetsu talk about it. I’m not allowed to help out, I just keep telling him to kill all of you to make it easier on him.”

“Being alone won’t solve his problems, you know.” Chad rests a hand on top of Shiro’s head and the Hollow narrows his eyes up at him. “Because of what kind of person he is, that level of isolation would make him worse, and I think you know that very well.”

“Yeah, I know. Too bad, because it’d fix a lot of his issues.” Shiro tilts his head, teeth snapping just after Chad removes his hand from Shiro’s hair.

The implication is not a pleasant one. “Are you insinuating Ichigo is in distress because of us? I haven’t even seen him in… Longer than I care to remember.”

“Two years five months and some odd weeks.” Shiro smiles sunnily up at him. “I know almost the exact amount of time. Like I said, I’m not allowed to give advice, but I still listen in from time to time. Do you want to know what he says about you?”

“No.” Chad stands, slips a hand beneath Shiro’s arm and hauls him off of the bed, dragging him back to the door. “You should eat dinner at some point. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like a little peace and quiet. It has been a very long day for everyone involved.”

Shiro sneers at him. “Because of me, right? None of you want me here.”

“Because of you,” Chad agrees, and he watches golden eyes blink up at him as he sets Shiro very firmly on the other side of the doorway. “Take care of Ichigo’s body and  _ eat. _ ”

He closes the door before Shiro can argue with him and breathes a sigh of relief.


	3. Chapter 3

There is something deeply unsatisfying about waking up in the guest bedroom of your ex-friend’s apartment that he told you nothing about, knowing that somewhere in another room is the radically volatile side of his personality in control of his body.

Chad drags a hand down his face and picks up his cell phone, letting the charger cord slide out of the port as he studies the screen. He has text messages from Orihime and Uryu and pauses to answer those, assuring both of them that everything went fine but that he was asleep and he’s going to try to get Shiro to eat before they do anything else. He needs to maintain Ichigo’s health for however long he has control of his body, and it occurs to Chad that unless they can figure out exactly what caused all of this, that might be forever. Ichigo might not come back, and that is a sobering thought.

Can Shiro fulfill the needs that Ichigo’s presence does? Can he fight in Ichigo’s place if the need arises? Chad isn’t sure he has the skill even if he is part of that power. Can he access Ichigo’s Quincy powers, or is he limited to his own abilities?

There is a lot to think about, but Chad just woke up. Breakfast.

He showers in the bathroom across the hall, gets dressed, and goes in search of Shiro.

The door that leads to what appears to be the master bedroom is open and Chad stands in the doorway, peering around and sighing when he sees no sign of Shiro. What he does see… Gives him pause. There is a chair in the corner of the room piled up with laundry, though he has no idea if the clothes are clean or not, and more strewn on the floor. A small table not far from the bed is overrun with trash and other items.

What the hell was Ichigo  _ doing _ out here by himself? Chad can’t pretend to guess.

The rest of the apartment gives him nothing, and he finds himself standing in the middle of the living room with a slightly panicked tug in his chest.  _ Where the hell is Shiro? _

Admittedly, Chad was unfairly mean to him last night. He picked at sore spots, probably just trying to get a rise out of him so Chad would fight him, speak a language that he  _ actually _ speaks and maybe tire him out enough to help him sleep. But it had been a long day and Chad doesn’t want to think about the fact that he’d been pushed far harder than he’s used to being pushed especially after… He doesn’t really want to think about that.

The apartment is empty, leaving him one location to choose from.

He walks up to the sliding glass door, fingers curling in the cord to draw the blinds away from the glass— And Shiro is on the other side of the door, slumped in the corner of the metal railing with one knee drawn up to his chest, his head resting on it.

Shit.  _ Shit. _ Chad shoves the door open and kneels down in front of him.

His skin is frightfully cold and when Chad touches him, his head does not immediately lift with some venomous little comment on the tip of his tongue. At least his breathing is stable; Chad debates, then decides that risking life and limb for Ichigo is  _ normal _ for him and picks Shiro up off of the balcony, carrying him inside and closing the door behind him.

The temperature dropped in the night and Shiro must be numb. His clothes feel like they might have  _ frost _ on them which makes Chad’s heart beat maybe a little too fast.

“Don’t you dare freeze to death on me,” he says, racking his brain for ideas. The shower, maybe, so he carries Shiro to the bathroom, keeping him supported around the waist with one arm while he twists the taps and waits.

The  _ waiting _ takes too long and Chad knows he’s going to regret it, going to be  _ haunted _ by it for a while yet, but he shrugs out of his shirt and sits on the lid of the toilet with Shiro wrapped up in his arms, hoping his body heat is enough to jumpstart the warming process until the water is hot enough. Shiro is so cold, his fingers curled loosely in his lap, his breathing so slow and steady… But that’s good, right? Maybe it just means he’s asleep.

Chad is too optimistic, probably, but after a few minutes, just as steam is starting to curl above the top of the shower stall, Shiro finally picks his head up and looks at him.

“What.” Shiro clears his throat, his voice rough and raspy. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry.” Chad feels awkward just  _ sitting _ here with Shiro on his lap, but the Hollow makes no move to get down, which is. It’s distressing, and he can’t think about that right now. “Why were you asleep on the balcony? You could have frozen to death. You almost did.”

Shiro blinks languidly at him and then tilts his head, and his eyes seem to blow wide as soon as he realizes Chad isn’t wearing a shirt. “Fuck,” he says, “have you always had these muscles? That’s  _ impressive. _ How the hell do you keep that up?”

“You should get in the shower. You were out there for a long time,” Chad tells him.

“I guess.” Shiro stands and skims his shirt off and Chad. Okay, Chad maybe gets a little distracted because he isn’t the only one with a nice body and then he remembers that no, this is  _ Ichigo’s body _ and he shouldn’t be staring at it. “Asleep? On the balcony?”

“Yes.” Chad puts his shirt back on very slowly, keeping his eyes averted from Shiro’s own. “I was coming to see if you’d eaten yet because I was going to make something.”

Shiro hums at him, arms crossed over his chest. “Hadn’t,” he says, rubbing a hand up the back of his neck, displacing bright orange hair as he does. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. It felt almost like home, or what home is supposed to feel like. The cold.”

“The cold.” Chad nods slowly. “Hueco Mundo is a desert at night, so it’s cold.”

“Yeah.” Shiro laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve never known anything other than King’s Inner World until we were fighting Aizen, I guess I just. Wanted to know what it was like. I fucking… Forgot it’s not my body. It’s  _ his _ limitations.”

Chad rests a hand carefully on Shiro’s shoulder, and the Hollow blinks golden eyes up at him. “You can be outside in the cold as long as you wear a coat,” he finally says, and Shiro’s lashes flutter up at him once more. “Get warm in the shower. I’ll start on breakfast.”

He leaves Shiro in the bathroom and goes to the kitchen, rifling through the contents of the refrigerator, freezer, and cabinets before frustration finally wins out and he pulls up restaurants that do takeout on his phone. There is very little food in the apartment and while he wants to think that Ichigo just needs to go shopping, the impression he gets… Is not that. The impression he gets is that Ichigo does not keep food in the apartment, which certainly is something he does not want to think about right now.

“I ordered takeout,” he says when he hears footsteps, glancing up toward the kitchen doorway and just stopping. “Um. I think you know where Ichigo’s clothes are?”

“Takeout. Oh, that’s right. King doesn’t eat much.” Shiro says that fucked-up thing while standing in the doorway in just a towel, his skin still damp from the shower.

Using a Hollow to get intel on Ichigo would be the  _ shittiest _ thing in the world to do, but Chad figures he’d owed at least one shitty thing, so. “Why doesn’t he eat much?”

“He’s not been doing so well up here.” Shiro taps the side of his head and Chad nods slowly, pondering that while trying  _ not _ to look anywhere below Shiro’s throat. “Maybe that’s why he’s gone. Maybe he just wanted a break and he won’t even tell us where he is.”

“I’m sorry, if that’s the case.” Chad tips his head back, looks at the ceiling. “Much as he deserves a break, it shouldn’t be at the cost of other people’s pain.”

Shiro snorts at him. “I guess so. I’m gonna go get dressed, then. Oh, uh…” He fidgets and looks incredibly uncomfortable for a few minutes. “I’m  _ sorry. _ The old man says I shouldn’t be trying to turn fucking everyone into an enemy if we’re supposed to get any help.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” Chad feels weird just  _ standing _ here, but he isn’t Ichigo, and a hug would be inappropriate while he’s naked.

Shiro considers, then nods once and turns around. “Right. Anyway. Getting dressed.”

Chad exhales and tries very hard not to think about Shiro getting dressed in another room.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Takeout arrives and Chad has it dished up on plates by the time Shiro returns to the kitchen, his hair actually brushed and in clothes that don’t quite fit him. Ichigo seems to be running larger sizes of clothing these days and while the result is helplessly cute, it makes Chad feel weird to see him like this on a regular basis. He’s used to Ichigo, like… Well he’s used to the shinigami clothes these days, so who is he to really talk?

“That smells good.” Shiro’s nose twitches and then he looks at Chad oddly. “Did you know Hollows typically don’t hunt together? It’s a rare trait for any of us to have  _ relationships _ with one another that don’t end in blood and death.”

“Is this just stuff you instinctively know? You’ve been living inside of Ichigo since he was born, haven’t you?” Chad asks. He has a  _ lot _ of questions all of a sudden.

Shiro smirks at him. “Yep. Hollows have to know how to take care of themselves. Not like we got a manual, you know? We’re predators. Like lions or wolves. You just  _ know. _ ”

“That makes sense.” Chad picks up the plate he’d made up for Shiro— a lot more meat than his own, because while he can’t think of anything like spiritual matter he can feed him, meat seems like a good option. “Here. You should eat while it’s still hot.”

“Gotta keep King going one way or another,” Shiro agrees, taking the plote.

Chad hesitates, exhales heavily through his nose. “And you,” he says, and Shiro looks at him oddly once more. “It’s your body until we find him. If we. If we can’t, then it’s your body for good, isn’t it? So you should learn how to properly take care of it.”

“Hmm.” Shiro picks a piece of chicken off of the plate, holds it up to his nose and sniffs it. “Guess so. You’d all probably go batshit crazy if you were stuck with me, though.”

“You aren’t so bad.” Chad pats him on top of the head and Shiro looks at him, really  _ looks _ at him in a way that makes his skin itch. “Once you stop trying to make people mad, you’re just. Not so bad. So sit down and eat and take care of yourself, too.”

Shiro’s snicker makes him roll his eyes. “All right, boss. Whatever you say.”

They sit on the couch to eat together and Chad ignores his phone when it vibrates, not in the mood to constantly wipe his hands off so he can return the text messages. Shiro snatches the remote the moment Chad picks it up and puts on something— It’s a movie, gorey and bloody and violent, and he seems riveted to the screen as he picks at the food on his plate. As soon as he finishes, Chad takes the plate to the kitchen and finishes loading up their takeout onto both plates; Shiro does seem to like meat. That’s a start.

Taking care of a Hollow is certainly a way to spend a Christmas vacation, he thinks.

Shiro hardly seems to notice when he comes back with more food but he cleans that plate off, too, and then slumps against Chad so hard that for a moment he thinks Shiro might have eaten something Ichigo is allergic to and just stopped breathing. When he checks, though, Shiro is just staring rapt at the screen and using Chad’s arm as a pillow.

“It’s nice,” he says on a commercial break, “to not have one person hate me being here.”

“The others don’t hate you,” Chad says, though he. He kind of doubts that to be true in terms of Uryu, at least, and maybe Rukia, too. “Orihime doesn’t hate you. She wants to help you. And Urahara, I don’t think he cares one way or another. He’s a scientist, this is all probably just research material for him. Don’t think so bad of everyone.”

Shiro snorts at him. “Why shouldn’t I when everyone thinks so badly of me?”

That’s a fair point, Chad thinks, and picks up his phone to return Uryu’s text messages as he slings his arm around Shiro’s shoulders. This feels almost  _ normal, _ which is probably dangerous. He shouldn’t start thinking of Shiro as Ichigo, that would be bad. “They’ll come around. They’re just worried about Ichigo. How are you doing? Are you full?”

“Yeah.” Shiro eyes Chad’s phone speculatively. “The Quincy? Is that him?”

“He’s asking me how we got through the night and what we’re doing now and when we should arrange the next… I guess attempt at figuring out what’s going on.” Chad shrugs; this is all mostly just going over his head. “Hirako taichou is talking to the other Visoreds.”

“Hirako.” Shiro says his name slowly. “He smells like Hollow. He’s got one like me, huh?”

“Something like that. The Visoreds are… Prototypes, for lack of a better word.” And it must have been the right word to choose because Shiro barks laughter, and it sounds less hostile than it had the last time Chad heard him laugh. It’s not like Ichigo, but it’s. Chad could come to think of it as pleasant. “They’re the closest to being like you.”

“Should probably cut your losses and just ask Aizen himself,” Shiro finally says.

Chad winces; yeah, Aizen would probably have an answer or two, considering the Espada used to belong to him, and he was the one who set into motion everything that led to Shiro inhabiting Ichigo’s body. “I think no one wants to go that far just yet.”

“It’s stupid to wait.” Shiro shrugs, frowning when Chad’s phone vibrates. “He must really want me gone if he’s still bothering you about this even though we have to wait.”

“I. Yeah.” Chad doesn’t want to sugarcoat it and lie, but the truth is, Uryu really does want Shiro gone. And it makes  _ sense, _ because he wants Ichigo back. But it isn’t like Shiro  _ wants _ to be here. In Chad’s estimation, he wants to go home, too. “I’m sorry for that.”

Shiro sticks his tongue out at the phone pointedly. “Deal with me, Quincy prick.”

“Be nice,” Chad says, but there’s no weight in his voice and Shiro only snickers.

No one has any real tangible plan right now until Hirako comes back with some kind of answer, and going back to Uryu’s apartment would just result in them hashing out absolutely nothing except maybe having a few more arguments. Orihime offers to bring them something from the bakery a few blocks away and Chad agrees to that because he’s in the mood for pastries and he really wants Shiro to see that Orihime is harmless. He might never be able to calm him down in terms of Uryu, but this is a start.

It isn’t that Chad doesn’t want to see Uryu. He does. He  _ really _ does, but he and Shiro are like oil and water and now is not the time to push that just yet. He has time.

“Can I ask you a question?” Chad looks down at him just as Shiro looks up, and he. He looks tired, which is likely given he slept on the fucking  _ balcony _ and. Chad is going to have to probably tuck him into bed to make sure he knows to sleep there. “Why are you so attached to me? You didn’t like the others. You don’t seem to mind me too much.”

“You don’t hate me.” Shiro tilts his head and sniffs; the little puff of an exhalation against Chad’s skin feels warm. “And you smell like Hollow power, and like  _ you _ , and to me and King, that’s home.”

_ Home. _ Chad opens his mouth to reply and nothing comes out, but Shiro turns his attention back to the movie, so he stops thinking about answering and just. Thinks.

He smells like home to both of them.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

“Sorry for being late!” Orihime sets the insanely large box of pastry on the coffee table, all chipper sunshine despite the chill outside. “I hope waiting wasn’t too bad.”

“It wasn’t,” Chad reassures her while Shiro sits up, sniffing in the direction of the box before he reaches for it, flicking the lid off. “Shiro. What do you say to Orihime?”

Golden eyes narrow at him before Shiro sighs and looks up at her, squaring his shoulders and clearing his throat. “Thank you, Inoue,” he says, and his voice  _ sounds _ like Ichigo almost except. Except he obviously still sounds like a Hollow. “Can I just have any one I want?”

Orihime nods, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Of course you can!”

“I’ll get milk,” Chad says, because Ichigo at least has that, and Orihime follows after him.

“How has he been?” she asks, genuine concern in her voice which, yeah, this is honestly why Chad likes her the most. She would look a bloodthirsty monster in the mouth, right in between jaws dripping with blood and saliva, and try to help it if she thought it was sad.

“He slept on the balcony last night because it made him think of Hueco Mundo. I think he just wants to go home, whatever home is for him.” Chad picks three mismatched mugs out of the counter and pours milk into each of them. “What’s been going on with Ichigo?”

At that, Orihime is quiet. “I don’t know. He’s been distant with all of us. I… This is mean to say, but it almost feels like, of course he’s gone. It feels like he hasn’t even really been  _ around _ in so long, and I wish. I wish he was, because I miss him. The way he used to be.”

“Fuck.” Chad drags a hand down his face, laughing when Orihime gives him a reproachful expression. “Sorry. Yeah, that was. I got that impression too, looking at the kitchen.”

“I’m actually going to go check the sheets on his bed and see if they’re clean,” Orihime says, tucking a long strand of hair back behind her ear. “Sometimes he forgets to wash them, you know, and I just. If Shiro-kun is going to be staying here until we find Kurosaki-kun, then he should have a clean bed to sleep in.”

“Is the laundry in the room clean or not?” Chad asks her.   


Orihime wrinkles her nose. “If it’s on the chair, it is. If it’s on the floor, it’s not. I’ve been doing my best to help him, but I don’t think he entirely wants the help.”

“I’ll help you with the clothes and the sheets,” Chad finally says. “There’s probably washers and dryers in the basement, right?” When Orihime nods, he exhales and nods. “Right. Okay, let’s just. Enjoy pastries for now. I need to go shopping, too. He doesn’t have food here.”

“Rukia said it was bad the last time she was here. I don’t think any of us knew how bad.” Orihime laughs, and the sound is sad and humorless. “I suppose if Shiro-kun stays for a long time, then Kurosaki-kun’s body might finally be taken care of properly, and the apartment, too. Certainly a better job than he’s been doing, at any rate.”

They carry the milk back to the living room and Shiro looks between the two of them, obviously displeased. “You went into a different room to talk about me, didn’t you?”

“We were talking about the situation, not shit talking you,” Chad corrects, and Shiro looks somewhat mollified as he picks up another pastry, licking cream off of his wrist which is just. Super distracting. “Neither of us mind you being here, you know that.”

“It’s true! I like meeting new people.” Orihime picks a pastry up for herself and offers Shiro a smile that he cocks his head at before half-returning.

So that’s progress, right? Maybe not the best progress. Probably the others are going to be pissed that Chad and Orihime are making friends, but so be it.

They get through the entire  _ box _ because Orihime and Chad have voids in their stomachs when it comes to desserts, and Shiro manages to keep up with them pretty well. The gorey movie doesn’t seem to bother Orihime too much, which is good, and after a few minutes of gentle probing, she manages to get Shiro sitting on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, her fingers sifting through his hair, gathering it at the back of his neck.

“It’s long,” he complains, and Orihime hums in understanding. “King wants it long, though.”

“It looks nice long when he takes care of it,” Orihime tells him, and Shiro makes a non-committal noise as she runs her fingers through his hair. “You did today, too, didn’t you? I can tell you used conditioner because the shampoo would have washed off yesterday’s if Ichigo showered before he came to fight.”

Shiro huffs through his nose and tilts his head back to look at her. “Yeah, what of it?”

“It’s so soft, can’t you tell?” Orihime smiles down at him so pleasantly, but Shiro only looks back at the screen once more. “I can pull it back into a ponytail for you, and leave some hair ties? I keep a spare package in my purse just in case.”

“You don’t wear your hair up often, do you, Orihime?” Chad asks, and she shakes her head.

“No, but sometimes it gets in the way of what I’m trying to do, so I have to.” She holds up her wrist and he can see the three elastic bands resting there in multiple colors. “So, ponytail, Shiro-kun? It’s long enough that I don’t think it’s going to slip out.”

Shiro nods once. “Sure. Be nice to have it all out of my face for a change.”

Orihime is careful as she gathers the hair off of the nape of his neck, winding a bright green elastic band in his hair to keep it pulled back. It’s…  _ Awful, _ Chad thinks, but not because Orihime does not do a good job. On the exact opposite side of the spectrum, actually, because Shiro looks  _ good _ with his hair up, and that is bad. It’s very bad for Chad’s health on top of the greasy takeout and the pastries.

“Thanks.” Shiro rubs the back of his neck, now free of hair. “Uh, Inoue.”

“No problem!” Orihime slides over on the couch and Shiro takes his spot back, wedged up against Chad’s side like he doesn’t have room, but it’s fine. If that’s what makes him feel even a little better, Chad can deal for now. “Sado-kun, you talked about groceries—”

“There’s a, like, smallish store not far from here, I think.” Shiro gathers his knees up against his chest and leans back into the couch, and he looks almost normal. It could  _ almost _ be normal. “King shops there. I’ve been along for the ride when I got bored.”

Chad blinks down at him. “And you have hidden depths in you yet, Shiro.”

“If we’re not fighting and the old man doesn’t want to entertain me, I spend time with King. What else am I supposed to do?” Shiro shrugs but he averts his eyes and Chad wonders about that, but he chalks it up to the fact that Shiro is a Hollow and all of this is relatively strange for him. Hollows don’t have relationships, after all.

In response, Chad ruffles his ponytail. “Good job. That’s a help to us.”

His phone vibrates with a phone call and he excuses himself to the balcony to answer it when he sees  _ Uryu _ on the screen, not wanting to risk stirring Shiro up.

_ “Sorry to just call instead of messaging you, but it’s getting hard to type up my thoughts.” _ Uryu sounds exhausted; Chad isn’t sure he can blame him.  _ “How are things going? I know Inoue said she was going to run over, I was just making sure things are fine.” _

“Things are fine. He’s not so bad once you start talking to him like a normal person.” Chad leans against the railing and wonders how Shiro  _ slept _ here and he feels awful about it all over again. “He’s eating, he’s talking. He’s not so bad. How are things on your end?”

_ “Housing shinigami is the last of my worries. I’m used to this.” _ Uryu laughs.  _ “Ryuken would have a heart attack if he found out, but that’s preferable at this point. Housing a Hollow comes with its own challenges, I’m sure. Sado-kun… Why  _ are _ you doing this?” _

Chad hesitates at the question. Why? There are a thousand reasons why. Shiro  _ likes _ him, or at least is comforted by his presence, and Chad’s even temperament means he can do a hell of a better job managing Shiro than the others can. He’s been acting like a normal person ever since this morning, and they even talked out their fight from last night more or less, so Chad can handle him. But that’s not really what Uryu is asking him.

He’s asking him why he agreed to do it in the first place. Why he offered at all.

Which is a fair question, but not one that Chad thinks he has the answer to. “I don’t know,” he admits, and Uryu makes a noise at him from the other side of the line. “What?”

_ “Are you sure you aren’t doing this for Kurosaki’s sake? I know the two of you… Had a bit of a falling out, but.” _ Uryu is quiet, but Chad knows what is coming next because Uryu never misses anything when it counts.  _ “But you still care about him, don’t you?” _

Chad sighs softly. This is not really what he wanted to be talking about right now. “That has nothing to do with this. Shiro needs help. He’s not used to being here. I know he seems like a predator to everyone, and fair. I get it. I do, because he’s a Hollow and we’ve fought them for so long, but he’s not a monster. He’s another part of our friend.”

_ “And you do realize he’s really a different being from Kurosaki, yes?” _ Uryu presses.

If it was anyone else, Chad might have been annoyed by this point, but he knows Uryu, and he knows Uryu is worried about him, and he knows why. “Yes, I know. I’m not going to confuse that point, I promise you. Now, we need to go grocery shopping and do some laundry, so I have to let you go. Let me know if Hirako figures anything out.”

_ “I will. Of course I will.” _ Uryu hesitates, and his voice comes out softer, and gentler, and Chad think that no one must be around because Uryu would never talk to him like this where someone else could hear.  _ “Take care of yourself, Sado.” _

“I will,” Chad promises him. “Goodbye, Uryu.”

He hangs up the phone and returns to the living room, surprised to find Shiro sitting with his eyes closed. Before he can ask, Orihime speaks up. “He’s talking to the Quincy inside of Kurosaki-kun before anywhere. He’s making sure he knows the right directions.”

“I see.” Chad pockets his phone. “That was Uryu checking up on us.”

Orihime’s smile softens. “Checking up on  _ you, _ ” she teases, and Chad just shrugs a shoulder because it’s really not the time to talk about that. “He’s a lot different these days, isn’t he? Ishida-kun. He’s still just as capable, but he’s opened up a lot more.”

“He has,” Chad agrees, because he’s seen the proof of it himself.

“All right.” Shiro opens his eyes, blinking a few times. “I know where we need to go.”

Chad nods and scours Ichigo’s kitchen once more, tucking a few cloth canvas bags under his arm so they don’t have to worry about plastic breaking on the way home. “We should be good to go. We’ll just get enough to last the next couple of weeks and go from there.”

Orihime frowns. “I suppose we should teach Shiro what all he needs to be eating. If this continues past the end of your vacation, you can’t just stay here forever.”

“Vacation?” Shiro asks. “Oh, right. Probably university.”

“Yeah,” Chad agrees. “But no worries, shopping isn’t hard. We’ll teach you how to use the laundry machines downstairs today, too. Hollows are smart, you’ll pick it up fast.”

The compliment has Shiro smirking at him, bumping up against Chad as he picks Ichigo’s coat off of the hook. “If humans can do it, it can’t be that hard to figure out, right?”

Chad nods and Shiro beams up at him, leading the way out of the door while Chad locks up and Orihime waits for him. It could be worse, he thinks. If Shiro can take care of himself should this go on too long, then. Then they have time. They have  _ time _ .

They’ll find Ichigo, one way or another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know where this is going anymore!


	4. Chapter 4

They find themselves at Uryu’s apartment once their grocery shopping trip is over to find two shinigami sitting at the kitchen table with Urahara and Rukia, both of them sipping mugs of tea Uryu must have provided them with. To his credit, Uryu is excellent at playing host when he needs to and only looks mildly stressed when the three of them walk through the door, Shiro dragging his feet and bringing up the rear. He wants to find Ichigo more than any of the rest of them do, but being in the presence of so much reiatsu that must feel hostile to a Hollow appears to have soured his good mood.

Chad recognizes Hirako Shinji and Otoribashi Rojuro—  _ Rose, _ he reminds himself— and rests a hand on Shiro’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze before he turns his attention to where Uryu hovers in the corner created by the counter space. He offers Chad a strained smile and looks exhausted. The situation is taking too much out of all of them.

“You okay?” Chad asks him, leaving Shiro to the shinigami so he can walk up to Uryu.

“As okay as can be expected.” Uryu’s gaze shifts to Shiro and he presses his mouth into a thin line. “That’s what’s bothering me the most, obviously. Hopefully, this works.”

Quincy are raised to view Hollows as nothing more than threats to human life and human souls, and Shiro’s very presence here has taken Ichigo away from them. Because of this, it makes sense for Uryu to be upset, but Chad wishes he could see both sides of this. “What is the plan? Do they think they know where Ichigo might have gone to?”

“We think his soul might have been sealed somewhere in his Inner World,” Rose says, slowly rising from his seat. “Such a trick would be difficult, but we’re talking raised from the dead Arrancar, so who knows what they might be capable of? If Ichigo was sealed into his Inner World, that would explain why Shiro-chan here took over.”

Shiro tilts his head slightly. “How the hell does any of that make sense?”

“You’re the only other real conscious mind in that body,” Shinji tells him, pointing in his direction; Shiro narrows his eyes at him. “Just like mine. Just like Rose’s. The Quincy powers are a manifestation, probably a powerful one given Ichigo’s own power, but Quincy don’t have Inner Worlds. That manifestation isn’t a conscious person.”

Slowly, Shinji tilts his head to the side, his lips stretching into an unusually wide—  _ inhumanly _ wide— smile. “I remember the taste of your Hollows.” He drags his tongue across his lips and the gesture is almost lewd. “We should fight sometime soon.”

Rose’s shoulders jump and Shinji rolls his neck as if seriously considering the offer; when he speaks, his voice is not quite all the way his. “You’d lose if we did, and you know it. Without him, you’re nothing but another Vasto Lorde. Not worth the effort.”

“There is no substance to you, only the desire to fight. Without your human, without any inspiration, without a muse, you are nothing,” Rose muses, and then a low purring sound enters his voice, not entirely human. “Even if I did not have the human whose body I reside in, I would still have the lieutenant to stand at my side. Can you say the same?”

Shiro snarls at both of them. “That’s a challenge. We should fight to see if it holds true.”

“Stop fighting.” Urahara’s voice is firm. “I didn’t save the Visored so you could come to blows with another human’s Hollow. Behave yourselves in another’s house.”

When Shinji tilts his head, his eyes are normal once more. “You know he’s a rowdy one.”

“My apologies.” Rose runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “It’s not very elegant to threaten another’s safety in such a way. Izuru would be disappointed in me.”

“It’s fine.” Uryu scrubs a hand over his face and Chad rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently until those dark blue eyes flicker up to his face.

Shiro scoffs and drops down on the couch, looking petulant as always. “Well, what’s the plan, then? We haven’t been able to find King, and we’ve been looking. Trust me.”

“You might not be able to find him. A seal would be pointless if you could locate him on your own.” Shinji walks closer and Shiro narrows his eyes up at him, lips pulling back from his teeth. “He might be sealed in such a way that a Hollow and a Quincy cannot sense him. But if you open Ichigo’s Inner World to us, we can search for him.”

“You can do that?” Chad asks, perplexed. “I thought an Inner World was for that one person alone. That that was where the zanpakuto spirits lived.”

“It is. Sakanade lives in mine,” Shinji confirms. “And so does the Hollow. But Urahara-san thinks he can open up a pathway as long as the way is welcome. We can’t force our way in, but if you let us in, it might be enough to let us look for Ichigo on our own.”

“You just want me to let you into our head so you can poke around to your heart’s content. Why the hell am I not surprised it’s something that fucking invasive?” Shiro curls tighter into himself, and Chad can almost sense the displeasure radiating off of him in waves even from across the apartment. “I have to ask the old man. It’s his home, too.”

Shiro closes his eyes while the rest of them wait and Chad busies himself with making a cup of tea, trading glances with Uryu before he sidles up next to him once more. This, at least, is nice. Having some time together in the quiet while they wait for Shiro to return from the inside of his own head. And then Chad realizes the shinigami are going to be the ones busying themselves with this, and it gives him a hell of an idea.

“You don’t need us to do this, do you, Urahara-san?” he asks, the blond shinigami turning to look up at him. “This is for Hirako taicho and Rose taicho, yes? You don’t need our help.”

“We don’t,” Urahara confirms slowly. “Is there somewhere else you needed to be?”

Uryu cocks his head, but Chad quickly nods. “Yes, actually, if you don’t mind.”

“I can oversee operations here and ensure nothing happens to the apartment in your absence, Ishida-kun,” Urahara says, and his voice is surprisingly cheerful. “So if you do indeed have somewhere to be, feel free to go. We won’t keep you here all day.”

“All right.” Uryu picks up his jacket, and Chad waits until the door is shut to take him by the hand, not missing the way Uryu looks up at him at the gesture.

The walk out of the apartment building is quiet and the air outside is cold, but Uryu’s hand is warm in his and that makes Chad feel a little more sure about his decision to leave the others behind to handle this crisis. Not everything needs all of them; there is such a thing as having too much help and mulling around waiting is not something he wants to spend his break doing. That, and he made a promise to Uryu that they would do something to salvage this break if they could. He wants to follow through on that promise.

“Sado.” Uryu looks up at him, though his voice is unlike him, soft and a little shy. “Where are we going? I thought you’d want to keep an eye on the Hollow since it’s Kuro—”

“The captains can handle anything that needs to be handled, as can Urahara-san.” Chad really does not want to think about what Uryu was about to say, not right now. “Besides, we made plans. I was coming to see you, not everyone else, and I told you we’d do something with this break. I meant it. So let’s find a way to enjoy what of it we can.”

The smile on Uryu’s face is transcendent, though he lowers his head. “I thought… With this happening to Kurosaki, that you might not want to—”

“I do.” Chad squeezes Uryu’s hand as gently as he can. “Of course I still do.”

Uryu comes to life with the words, the hand in Chad’s turning to two as Uryu takes the lead and drags him out into the cold, his face lit up and his eyes glittering.  _ Whoa. _ Chad is far from blind and knew Uryu was pretty long before they ever started acting like they were interested in each other— he’s seen Uryu banged up and bloody and still been a little dumbstruck at the sight of him— but this is different. He’s never seen Uryu smile like this before which is both awe inspiring and sad all at once when the reality of it really hits him.

Sometimes, it’s easy to forget Uryu has been on his own for years.

“There’s somewhere I want to go, if you don’t mind?” The excitement pouring off of him is impossible not to notice and Chad smiles despite himself. Despite the chill in the air, Uryu’s hands are warm, chasing away the cold. “It’ll be cold, but I think it’s worth it.”

Chad doesn’t even have to think twice about that, allowing Uryu to take the lead without even a vestige of a fight. “Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. You’ve been doing a great job holding down the fort, so we’re going to do this for you, whatever it is.”

“Thank you.” Uryu ducks his head and Chad can see the beginnings of what appears to be a blush on his face. It’s. It’s  _ cute. _ It makes him think of the way Uryu looks at him every time he’s sewn something new. “I hope you’re going to enjoy it.”

Chad squeezes both of his hands. “I’ll enjoy it as long as I’m with you.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

In the back of his mind, Chad knows that Uryu is graceful. The two of them have never gone ice skating together before, though, so it opens Chad’s eyes to a reality he never knew existed, a reality in which Uryu almost dances across the ice with his arms raised to keep his body’s equilibrium stable. Chad is competent; fighting lends you a certain level of balance and this is not difficult, but he has to focus to keep from hitting the ice. Uryu can skate circles around him, and he does, laughing as he throws his head back. He looks ethereal and alive and Chad feels privileged to see him like this.

He might not have grace but he has strength on his side. He picks Uryu up off of the ice and up over his head and Uryu laughs and almost screams, fumbling for just a moment, but Chad’s grip is stronger than that. He keeps Uryu held aloft and glides across the ice for a few meters before setting him back down, hands around his waist until he gets his balance. His cheeks are pink, his eyes gleaming royal blue behind his glasses.

“You’re having fun, huh?” Uryu asks him, tucking his hair back behind his ears as he looks up at Chad. The silver light from the grey sky reflects off of his glasses.

“I am.” Chad leans a little closer to him and Uryu beams, gloved hands settling on top of Chad’s shoulders and it feels. It feels  _ good, _ feels right. Feels amazing. “A lot of fun.”

Because he can, he picks Uryu up and tosses him over his head a few more times, and Uryu teaches him how to skate better than just passably. They stop when Uryu needs a rest and buy hot chocolate from a stand not far from the rink, sitting together on a bench. Chad keeps an arm around Uryu’s shoulders, cognizant of how much easier it is for him to get cold. Uryu is still human; maybe the tiny shred of Hollow power still inside of Chad, twined with his own human DNA, makes the cold a tiny bit more bearable for him.

Not that he’s going to be sleeping on balconies any time soon.

“This is what I wanted to do your first day here,” Uryu says, steam fogging up his glasses so the blue behind them is foggy and soft. “I want to do so many things with you.”

The words have something hard rising in Chad’s throat. “I know. It’s why I came out here.”

“To see me. To spend time with me. “Something about that draws a small smile to Uryu’s face. “I thought. You know. After the Sternritter. The Wandenreich. Yhwach. I thought everyone would hate me. Maybe, on some level, I even wanted that. I must have seemed like a traitor to all of you, so I could never blame you if you hated me.”

Chad shakes his head, settling his hand on Uryu’s back, rubbing in what he hopes are soothing circles. “I could never hate you. Evidently, neither can the others.”

“I’m glad for that. I don’t really want to lose my friends.” Uryu peers down into his cup, as if the words he needs are buried within its depths. “I don’t want to lose you, Sado.”

The weight of the statement settles on Chad’s shoulders and he nods once, wrapping his arm around Uryu once more, carefully pulling him the rest of the way across the bench and up into his side. If the surrounding people can tell the two of them are sitting here as a couple, then so be it. Far be it from Chad to feel ashamed of his bond with Uryu. He was willing to spend his entire Christmas break examining this relationship with Uryu.

“Look at me,” he says softly, waiting for Uryu to look to him, so close now their faces almost brush together. “You are not going to lose me. I’m not upset with you. You took a great risk, putting yourself so close to the enemy, and you almost died because of it.”

Uryu’s teeth slide across his lower lip. “I just wanted to help everyone I could.”

“And you did. You did a lot for us. I won’t quickly forget that. Neither will our friends.” Chad realizes Uryu is so close that all he has to do is tilt his head slightly, and he could. He  _ could. _ “And now, you’re helping even more. Even though you don’t have to.”

Uryu shrugs. “Kurosaki is my friend. It seems wrong to do nothing at all.”

“I understand.” Far too well. “And you’re doing amazing right now. For all of us.”

“Thank you.” Uryu ducks his head a little and Chad can see the dark fans of his eyelashes, the way his brows furrow just slightly before they smooth out again. This is progress, and he is so, so proud of Uryu. “I’m. I’m happy to be here with you right now. Enjoying the ice skating, enjoying our time together. I thought, maybe, that… That he—”

“No.” Chad knows what Uryu is going to say and he cuts him off, smoothing his fingers over the curve of Uryu’s shoulder before squeezing. “There’s nothing. There’s no one else.”

When Uryu turns back to him, the soft flush has returned to his face, though he looks more determined now than he did a moment ago. “I want to change that.”

“I know.” Chad swallows hard, sets the cup of cocoa aside so he can use his other hand, settling it against the side of Uryu’s neck. The skin there is cold but Chad rubs carefully with his fingers until it warms, the flush on Uryu’s face deepening in answer. “I knew that when I came out here to see you. It’s why I came in the first place.”

Uryu exhales slowly and nods, fingers nervous as he pushes his hair back out of his face once more. Some of it falls back, whispering against his cheek. “O-oh. That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Chad’s hand shifts slightly, moving to cup Uryu’s jaw, and he relishes the way Uryu leans into it, his eyelids seeming to grow heavy. “Am I allowed to kiss you, Uryu?”

Uryu’s intake of breath is soft and he bites down on his lower lip harder this time, the soft skin bleaching white before it returns to a soft, flushed pink as he looks up at him. For a seemingly endless moment, they stare at each other. This close, Chad can see all of the finer details of Uryu’s face. The soft laugh lines forming around his eyes even now, their endless blue depths and the tiny shadows they create on his cheeks when he blinks. Uryu is beautiful. Chad is so, so lucky to have Uryu in his life.

And damned if he doesn’t know it, too.

“Okay.” Uryu swallows hard and sets his own cup down, and their thighs are pressed together so hard it feels like there’s no room between them. “Yeah, I mean. You can.”

Chad chuckles and his hand slides around to the back of Uryu’s neck, fingers cupping the soft skin there as he draws Uryu closer to him. He can feel Uryu’s hair tickling the backs of his fingers as he draws him closer and Uryu moves with him, his own hand coming up to curl in the neck of Chad’s t-shirt, his cold fingers a shock against Chad’s still-warm collarbones. When his hand shifts up to brush Chad’s hair back from his forehead, Chad leans down, closing the distance between their lips.

Kissing Uryu puts fireworks to shame. It puts everything to shame. There is nothing as bright and gleaming and beautiful as the way Uryu’s lips feel against his own, soft and warm and delicate. Hesitant, completely frozen like he doesn’t know what he’s doing and Chad thinks he must not know and takes over leading the kiss.

He moves his lips slowly against Uryu’s, parting them just enough to make the kiss work. Uryu makes a small noise against his mouth and moves with him, slow and clumsy but picking it up. By the time they have to part to breathe, Uryu’s face is almost neon.

“Easy,” Chad murmurs, and kisses him again, a brush of lips against lips.

“It’s nice.” Uryu scrunches his nose up at the words and Chad smiles, pecks him on the nose and grins when Uryu giggles up at him. God, he hasn’t heard that sound in a while. All the stress has been wearing down all of them, but Uryu is giggling again.

Chad guides Uryu’s mouth back to his and this time the kiss is more fluid, soft and warm and just a little wet when Chad just barely licks over Uryu’s lower lip. He mewls softly and the sound makes something in Chad’s blood catch fire. Just a slight burn. A sizzle.

“Wow. Okay.” Uryu covers his face with his hands and leans back, and Chad can hear him muffling noises against his palms. “That was. Amazing. Thank you, Sado, I enjoyed that.”

“I did, too.” Chad clears his throat a little and Uryu peeks between his fingers, and it’s. It’s disarming, seeing Uryu look at him like this. “Did you want to ice skate more?”

“Yes.” Uryu rises to his feet and takes Chad’s hand in his once more, and he looks emboldened now, more determined than he did a moment ago. “I want to get lunch with you also, if that’s okay. Inoue can call me if something happens we need to be there for.”

“You got it.” The idea of spending the day with Uryu is what he came here for.

Their legs are sore when they head into a small diner that Uryu leads them to, though Uryu is laughing and smiling the entire way, finally talking about the last few weeks prior to Chad’s visit. School, and his relationship with his father that is still absolutely terrible, and his relationship with his stepfather that is also bad, but at least better. Chad loves seeing him smile like this, loves seeing the light in his eyes and can only hope that he can keep it buoyed and bright after today. When they go back to the apartment, he has no desire to see Uryu tense and miserable once more.

He at least now knows he has the power to keep that from happening.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

When they arrive back at the apartment, something is wrong.

“I’m guessing that didn’t work,” Uryu finally says to break the tense silence as he kicks off his shoes and shrugs out of his coat. Chad follows suit, looking between everyone in the room, who all sit quietly. “Otherwise, Kurosaki would be— Where did the Hollow go?”

The question startles Chad, who surveys the room and realizes that Shiro is missing after all. The captains and Urahara are at the kitchen table once more while Orihime and Rukia sit together on the couch, but there is no sight of Shiro or a familiar tuft of orange hair. The realization makes Chad wonder just  _ how _ wrong things went after all.

Shinji sighs from the table and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Where do you want us to start? It took us half an hour just to get into his head. And it wasn’t pretty.”

“Kurosaki Ichigo’s Inner World is a series of skyscrapers,” Rose says patiently. “Beautiful, marvelous, modern. All befitting a modern day shinigami. Except…”

He trails off, and Urahara picks up. “Many of the windows have been cracked and shattered. His Quincy power reassured me that this is abnormal, but that it has been occurring steadily over the last three years. Ever since the fight with Yhwach. It would seem that Ichigo has been suffering in silence for quite some time.”

Chad thinks of the laundry pile and the bare cabinets. “And of course, you didn’t find him.”

“He was nowhere to be found.” Shinji shrugs. “Not that I don’t think he’s sealed in there somewhere. I felt his reiatsu. But it’s debatable as to whether or not that’s because it’s his Inner World or because he’s there. And then the Hollows started fighting.”

“And then the Hollows started fighting,” Uryu parrots with a noticeable frown.

Rose shrugs. “It was bound to happen. We managed to untangle them before any serious damage could occur, though. Hollows fight to see who is the strongest, and ours are not much different in that sense. But ever since then, Shiro-chan has been locked up in the guest bedroom and refuses to come out. I think it upset him quite a lot.”

“Do you want to go get him?” Uryu asks, looking up at Chad.

He probably should. Casting a glance at the bedroom door, though, Chad can only heave a sigh. Of course Shiro had to fight people who just wanted to come to help him. Even the little progress he made today being nice to Orihime is not going to fix him or his personality— Nothing may be able to, which is distressing to think about depending on how long they have to keep him around. But for now, he merely shakes his head.

“Later,” he says, and Uryu blinks up at him, then smiles. “Why not watch a movie?”

“Oh, can I pick?” Orihime half-bounces off of the couch and Rukia guides her back down.

They let Orihime pick out a movie and take the love seat, the closeness pleasant. Shinji and Rose sit on the floor and bicker softly under the dialogue of the movie until Shinji finally sighs and undoes Rose’s ponytail so he can start braiding his hair with an expert touch that surprises Chad. After a few minutes, Urahara comes to join them, using Shinji’s thigh as a pillow as he looks up at the television screen from the floor.

Uryu makes more tea and Orihime commandeers his kitchen to make cookies— normal ones, thankfully, because Uryu has no strange ingredients in his house. The air in the apartment is light and free and Chad feels comfortable here with Uryu leaning against his side, occasionally stealing a glance up at him and beaming when Chad smiles at him. On the couch, he can hear Orihime whispering about them to Rukia, but he doesn’t mind so much. If they want to talk about it, so be it. Chad meant it earlier when he told himself he was not ashamed of what he has with Uryu.

“We should probably be getting back.” Shinji stretches his arms above his head and sighs; Rose has taken up leaning against him and whines at being jostled. “I don’t imagine there’s any great calamity that will occur without us, but just the same.”

Rose huffs at him. “Carry me back. I don’t want to walk.”

“Princess.” Shinji runs a hand over Rose’s braid fondly. “I’ll think about it. So, Urahara, you think it’s finally time to break down and contact Aizen about this?”

From his position on Shinji’s lap, Urahara sighs. “I don’t know. Probably? We could always ask Kyoraku for his help. Ukitake can’t. Soul King and all. But Kyoraku, on the other hand.”

“I don’t think it’s going to make a difference, unfortunately.” Rose sits up slowly, blinking the grogginess out of his eyes. “It wasn’t a matter of not having enough reiatsu. More people might make Shiro-chan uncomfortable. Perhaps we should ask Aizen.”

“He doesn’t control the Arrancar any longer,” Uryu says softly. “You might be better off discussing this with Kurotsuchi Mayuri, who is familiar with Szayelaporro’s work.”

Rukia sighs softly and tips her head back. “We are assuming he was the Arrancar responsible for this. If he wasn’t, we have no leads at all.”

“Aizen would know what to do no matter what. His power is just of that nature, but I don’t exactly think he would be willing to help Ichigo out unless we had some leverage against him, and we don’t.” Urahara sits up, and Shinji punches his thigh. “So, there is that.”

Shinji waves his hands through the air. “Shut up, shut up. I’ll take Rose home and well see what Kyoraku has to say. We gotta get his say-so on either him doing it or talking to Aizen anyway, so that settles that. Just. Keep Shiro going until we can get an answer.”

“Did Kurosaki’s reiatsu feel faded at all?” Uryu asks, and Chad’s arm tightens around him.

Rose shakes his head. “No. He is very much still alive. That much I can reassure you of.”

With that, Shinji does, in fact, pick Rose up off of the ground and carry him out of the apartment, and Urahara bids them goodnight and follows after them. The hour isn’t late, per se, but Uryu looks exhausted and Chad can see Orihime and Rukia starting to debate about whether to leave or not. He should probably collect Shiro and take him home.

He gives Uryu a preamble goodbye kiss so they can be spared Shiro’s inane comment about it and then walks to the guest bedroom door, knocking softly. “Shiro? Are you in there?”

No movement on the other side of the door. Chad listens carefully, then tries the knob. Still locked. He sighs softly and knocks once more, listening again.

Still nothing. Did Shiro climb out of the window? Chad would hardly put it past him.

“Here.” Uryu stretches up and retrieves a small silver key from the top of the doorframe. “Just in case of emergency. He might not be happy about it, but you have to get him.”

“Of course.” Chad unlocks the door and slowly pushes it open while Uryu replaces the key and steps back. “Shiro? We need to go home for the night. Are you in here?”

He peers around the room, but with no lights on, the space is pitch black. He fumbles for a light switch and finds one, flicking it on and scanning the room. Still nothing. Panic burns in his gut and then he spies the closet door, wondering if Shiro had tried for a dark space earlier in the day when the sun was still out. He knocks on the door once and then slides it open, finding Shiro curled up in the far corner, knees against his chest.

“You been in here the whole time?” Chad asks him, kneeling down. “I heard it was bad.”

Slowly, Shiro lifts his head. His eyes burn with disgust. “What the fuck do you care? You weren’t here. No one gives a shit what it does to me to go through this.”

“There was nothing I could have done.” Chad holds a hand out to him, unsurprised when Shiro slaps it away. “We need to go back to Ichigo’s apartment. You can’t stay here.”

In answer, Shiro laughs. “The Quincy fuck gonna make an attempt on my life if I do? Let him. Won’t have to worry about finding King if you fuck up his body.”

“Uryu is not going to do such a thing, but I am not going to chance it.” Chad holds out his hand once more and Shiro slaps it away harder, but slowly climbs out of the closet. “You didn’t have to stay in here. You could have come out and sat with us.”

Shiro blinks up at him through Ichigo’s long hair and slowly rises to his knees. “No,” he says, pushing himself up onto his feet, “I couldn’t have. We aren’t the same. You can be as nice as you want to and it doesn’t change the fact I’m a Hollow. Doesn’t change the fact I lost my shit and wanted to get into a fight. It’s probably not even safe for us to stay together because I can taste the Hollow in your soul.”

The words make Chad frown. “You aren’t going to fight me, Shiro. I trust you.”

“I’ll go back to King’s place. I’ll be fine.” He looks like shit, rubbing the grit out of his eyes as he stands in the light. “You should stay here. It’ll be better for all of us.”

“No.” Chad sets his hands very firmly on Shiro’s shoulders and golden eyes blink up at him, confusion marring his face. “You’re going to go home, and I’m going with you. It’s a difficult time for all of us. That does not mean I am going to abandon you until we can find a way to bring Ichigo back. Now, is there anything you need before we leave?”

Numbly, Shiro shakes his head and follows Chad into the living room to get his coat.

The walk home is quiet and Shiro heads for the bedroom as soon as they enter the apartment, hardly a surprise to Chad. He lets him stay there while he makes dinner and just sets the plate in front of his door, relieved when he hears the click of it opening and the scrape of ceramic against the floor as Shiro picks up the plate. Better than nothing, and certainly better than holing himself up without food or water.

He comes out when Chad is sitting on the couch, looking over some study material he brought with him from university. Without a word, he sits down and half-curls against Chad’s side, and maybe he’s seeking touch-based comfort. Hard to tell; Chad knows so little that matters and it frustrates him more than he wants to admit. He wants to know about Hollows so he can help more, but for now he settles an arm around Shiro’s shoulders and lets him cuddle up as close as possible, ignoring the way Shiro sighs against his bare arm.

_ Imagine if it was like this forever. _ Ichigo’s voice, distant but echoing through his mind around the shadow of a memory Chad does not really want to dwell on right now.  _ You could come back here and stay with me. We could build an entire life here if we wanted to. _

_ We could, _ Chad had agreed, and Ichigo smiled up at him, eyes glittering.  _ If you want to. _

Too much studying. Chad decides to turn in for the night and ends up having to carry Shiro to bed when he realizes the Hollow has fallen asleep against his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *does some finger guns* happy new year everyone i don't know why i'm updating so much but i am


	5. Chapter 5

“What was the relationship between you and King?” Shiro asks halfway through his microwave lesson, smacking Chad’s hand away from the numbers. “Stop it. I can do it.”

Chad watches as Shiro mashes buttons until he sets the bowl of ramen to the correct time setting, breathing a sigh of relief as he sits down at the small kitchen table. It was obviously not chosen for more than one or two people to eat together, as if Ichigo was trying to say as loud and clear as possible that he wanted to keep this place all to himself. Still, Chad is well aware he is the only member of their little group that did not know about this apartment, and it makes something in his chest ache every single time.

He looks down at his hands, at the healing mottled green and yellow along his knuckles. “We were friends. I thought you’d be able to figure that one out on your own.”

“Nah. You weren’t friends, not totally. I know King. It’s not his thing.” Shiro drops down at the table as well, blowing overly long orange bangs out of his eyes. “Lovers, then?”

The term makes Chad wince. “Maybe it was something like that. Why do you ask?”

“I figured it was. Explains why King started distancing himself from the Quincy after a while. I wasn’t hearing all that much from where I was, but.” Shiro shrugs, and Chad gets the point. He noticed Ichigo and Uryu splitting apart and put the pieces together himself.

Of course, Chad should have noticed such a thing occurring himself, but he’d been so far away from the others and so far removed from Ichigo in general that he had no way of knowing. How could he let something like this happen without realizing the likely ramifications? And all because of the drama between him and Ichigo.

“Well, I never meant to make this much trouble for everyone else,” Chad says. He hopes Shiro knows he means it, but who knows what he thinks now? “Including you. I’m sorry about all of this, especially about last night. I should have stayed.”

Shiro’s expression shifts and he gives his head a rapid shake. “No, no, it’s all good. It was… It fucking sucked but I could handle it. Takes a lot more to take a good Hollow down. But you’re all worrying the old man and I don’t appreciate that shit.”

“Ichigo’s Quincy powers,” Chad says, and Shiro nods. “Well, tell him that I’m sorry, then.”

“It’s not your fault. Hell, I don’t even know what happened to King after a while. He was doing fine after that last big fight with that Quincy bastard, but things just started falling apart for him.” A glance around the kitchen reveals just how true it is; Shiro just stares at his hands while Chad eyes the layer of dust on top of the toaster. “Guess it gets hard, being a weapon when there’s no real battles you need to fight.”

Chad winces. “Is that how Ichigo sees himself? As nothing more than a weapon?”

“Isn’t that what he is?” Shiro asks, raising an eyebrow at Chad as the microwave beeps. “Soul Society only gave a shit about him when it meant letting him fight for them. Remember those powered-up humans? He got his powers back just so he could fight their ringleader. Doesn’t seem that altruistic when you look at it like that.”

The Fullbringers. Chad remembers. He still carries a massive weight of guilt on his shoulders about the situation, his restored memories letting him know just how much of a bastard he was to Ichigo, how mentally weak he was not to be able to power on despite that influence. He knew about Kuchiki Byakuya, who found a way to manipulate Tsukishima despite Book of the End, and he knew that he could have done the same. He  _ should _ have done the same because Ichigo was his best friend, and instead he let him down.

How could Chad have let him down? Ichigo, of all people, deserved absolutely everything he could possibly give him, and instead he failed him more than he ever had before.

Shiro claps him on the shoulder as he stands to open the microwave door, picking up the bowl of ramen and bringing it back to the table. “You humans really eat this stuff?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Chad tells him, picking up the chopsticks and passing them to him. “Try some of it. You might actually like it if you try it.”

“Okay, fine.” Shiro stabs the chopsticks into the noodles and Chad chuckles softly at the sight, watching him twirl the sticks until he manages to get noodles on his chopsticks. “I guess it doesn’t smell bad. King used to talk about you, you know. Then he stopped.”

Chad glances toward the calendar on the wall, realizing it hasn’t been changed in at least four months. Does Ichigo even realize he’s forgotten to change it? “He would have stopped about two years ago, correct? That was the last time we really talked to each other.’

“No.” Shiro takes a very small bite of noodles, makes a considerate sound in his throat as he takes a much larger bite, slurping the noodles into his mouth. “Hey, this is actually pretty great. And you said it comes in different flavors? Thank fuck for that.”

“No?” Chad frowns. “What do you mean  _ no? _ Was it before then?”

“After.” Shiro focuses more on his food than anything else, stuffing noodles into his mouth with a fervor Chad hasn’t seen out of him in quite some time. A good thing they bought at least a dozen packages of instant ramen noodles just in case Shiro had no desire to sit down and cook something that would take time to throw together. Orihime is a genius. “I think he was holding out hope you’d come back to him or something, I don’t really know the details. But then the Quincy mentioned something like a study date or whatever.”

“A study date.” Chad nods; he remembers that day. Uryu came up to his university and they spent most of the day in a corner of the stacks, piled up behind books. Making him laugh was worth it because he always flushed and tried to hide behind his hands, determined to stay as quiet as possible. “Right. Did it bother him? Because I don’t think—”

Shiro cuts him off, licking ramen broth off of the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, it bothered him. I dunno, personally. Just he seemed like he wasn’t happy about it. What happened between you two? You can’t possibly hide it from me forever. I’m him, after all.”

That… Is true, so Chad scrubs a hand over his face and sinks down in his chair. He might as well tell him, right? What is Shiro going to do with the information, tell the others? Tell Uryu? It’s unlikely. “Ichigo and I dated through the end of high school. He didn’t want the rest of the school to know for reasons that I think are obvious.”

“Obvious.” Shiro blinks at him. “No. I can’t think of a reason you’d keep it a secret.”

“Because you’re a Hollow and probably don’t have to worry about hiding it. It could have caused trouble at school, if people said rude things to us.” Chad knew it was a possibility; he never felt like Ichigo was ashamed of him, and he was never ashamed of Ichigo. There was already gossip because they were close friends. “But then after that—”

“You went to university. I remember King moping about that to us.” Shiro beams at him, obviously proud of himself for remembering something. “I’m going to make more ramen.”

Chad frowns at him. “Go ahead, but don’t make yourself sick if you can avoid it.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Shiro picks through the bowls in the cabinet, eyeing each one uncertainty before he finally sniffs one he deems edible enough. “How much water again?”

Pushing himself up, Chad shows him once more, and then Shiro swats him away back to the table so he can finish the ramen himself. “Don’t burn it. Remember, just—”

“I know.” Shiro rechecks the directions at least three times before he punches in the numbers, then smashes the Start button and frowns at him. “It’s not starting.”

“You have to close the door first,” Chad reminds him, and Shiro slams it shut.

Once the microwave thrums to life, the light behind the door popping on, Shiro sits back down at the table. “So, you went away and King moped about it, but you still talked for a while. And then you came back here and something happened and then he stopped talking about you like you were something special to him and just a friend.”

“Just a friend,” Chad muses. “You know, being a friend isn’t somehow less. It’s just as important, at least it used to be to him. Until, I guess… Yeah.”

“Yeah. So. What happened?” Shiro demands, making an irritated noise up at him.

Chad leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling. “Ichigo was talking about the future on the first day I was here, made it sound like he wanted me to come back to Karakura Town and we’d stay together. By the day I was leaving… We’d realized it wasn’t going to work between the two of us anymore. Keeping up with each other was too hard.”

“Something  _ really _ happened.” Shiro stands to collect his ramen from the microwave, swearing when he almost burns his fingers on the container.

“Yeah. We got into an argument. He wasn’t seeing so much of everyone anymore and I kept trying to ask him if he wanted to meet up with everyone and do something as a group like we used to do. He got weird about it. I guess…” Chad looks around the kitchen, at the dust and the disuse, the state of the rest of the apartment much of the same. “I guess this had already started, and he didn’t want to expend the effort anymore. Not that I can blame him, not really. He was struggling, and I feel like an idiot for not seeing it.”

Shiro stabs his chopsticks into the noodles and starts swirling them around, a thoughtful expression on his face. “King was hurting for a while. It’s not your fault for not seeing it. He was doing it in quiet for a really long time. You finding out was an accident.”

“I still feel bad. Ichigo… Was the first person I ever fell in love with.” Saying it out loud makes Chad feel foolish, and Shiro makes a noise into his food. “I never wanted it to get this bad. If I’d known, I definitely would have done something about it.

One golden eye meets his. “Of course not. Why do you think King kept it to himself for so long? He’d rather suffer rather than have you guys pick up the pieces for him.”

Hearing it out loud is not entirely surprising, but just the same, Chad hates to hear it stated out loud so plainly. Knowing that Ichigo kept this to himself and never let anyone else in just so he could continue to languish in his misery makes him feel sick to his stomach. He let it happen right under his nose without ever picking up on it; Ichigo had been falling apart when the two of them were still together, and how much worse had it made him feel to know Chad was coming to visit Uryu in the first place? He never should have mentioned it. Hell, he should have seen  _ something _ in all of this.

Shiro finishes his second bowl of ramen and sighs, drumming his fingers on the table. “I really need to let out some pent-up energy. Let’s go spar at that old man’s place. He’s got a place where we can fight without it causing any big issues, right?”

The last thing Chad should be doing is fighting Shiro, but he can feel a familiar thrum beneath his skin and he knows that getting some energy out might be good for him, too. Better than sitting here and letting himself getting upset about Ichigo’s secrets. Better than wondering if it made him a bad partner to have seen none of it coming when it should have been clearer to him than it was to anyone else.

“He does.” Chad stands and makes a beeline for his room. “I’m going to get some clothes to train in. You should do the same. T-shirts and sweatpants if you can find them. Easy, breathable clothing. And Shiro? I want to make one thing very clear to you.”

“What is it?” Shiro almost bounds after him, eyes glittering as he skids to a stop in front of him, almost close enough to bump right into him.

Chad leans down closer to him; he can feel the excitement thrumming off of Shiro. “I don’t want you to hold back. You can come at me full strength this time.”

Shiro cackles up at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Urahara lets them into his training ground without question; he seems to be in bolstered spirits when he sees Shiro up close and Chad quickly steers them away from one another before Urahara can try to talk Shiro into participating in some experiments with him. The last thing he needs is for Ichigo’s body to be strangely distorted or corrupted when he comes back into it, and Urahara would never be able to apologize enough. Best for them to avoid each other as much as possible to prevent any accidents.

Though Chad usually starts off slowly, just one arm mobilized at a time, he knows better than to take it slow with someone like Shiro. Zangetsu remains in a permanently released state and the twin black blades made Chad nervous; he needs as much defense against them as possible. After all, he never faced Ichigo directly in battle in such a way that Ichigo would use everything he had against him.

The only rule they have is no bankai, but it would hardly surprise him if Shiro broke it.

The Hollow’s spirits seem better than they have been the entire time Chad has known him. He lunges forward with the larger blade, scraping it against Chad’s arm. He seems delighted when the skin does not give beneath the blade immediately, unable to cut through the armor. A shrieking, hyena-like laughter fills the air and something like terror twists in Chad’s gut at the sound. Nothing natural is meant to sound like that.

He still remembers the first time Ichigo ever looked at him with those eyes, but it was still him. Still the boy Chad fell in love with, his spirit still firmly in control.

_ Where are you now, Ichigo? _ He wonders, swearing as he ducks a swing aimed at his head.

“Are you going to run from me?” Shiro demands, lunging forward again. The tip of his short sword rips through the fabric of Chad’s shirt, barely missing his skin. “If I wanted your blood, I’d already have it. Are you afraid of me,  _ little human? _ ”

This is who Shiro really is, Chad realizes. A Hollow with a familiar bloodlust, a Hollow trying to harm him despite his words. The excitement glittering in his eyes and the way he lunges and bounds forward, never afraid to charge forward, never stepping back even when Chad aims a punch at him, proves just what and who he really is. So Chad throws himself forward fearlessly, hissing when Zangetsu’s longsword bites into his collarbone.

“Oh!” Shiro’s eyes gleam and then Chad slams his first into Shiro’s chest, sending him flying back with as much force as he can muster. “I finally drew blood, didn’t I?”

He keeps his eye contact with Chad as he brings the blade up to his lips, tongue lapping the blood away until he cackles with joy. The thought makes Chad feel mildly sick but he reminds himself that this is the same Shiro who needed him the other night. He isn’t a monster. He isn’t like the other Hollows. He isn’t like an arrancar or the Espada. Shiro is just another part of Ichigo, part of his soul and who he is.

With that in mind, Chad can throw himself forward without holding back.

Shiro does the same with a predatory screech, brandishing both blades.

La Muerte staggers him but it isn’t enough to seriously hurt him, and Chad has to rethink his strategy when Shiro, shaking off the steam rolling off of his skin, comes at him with twice as much force. The two of them lash out at each other until Chad sweeps Shiro’s legs out from under him and pins him, and then Shiro knees him in the sternum so hard he wheezes. Dirt and dust flies up into the air as they roll, and he swears he comes within a hair of having Zangetsu’s short blade embedded in his gut.

When they finally stop moving, Chad’s hands engulf Shiro’s wrists, pinning them above his head, his legs heavy enough to keep Shiro’s pressed against the ground. To his surprise, the Hollow finally stops struggling, panting heavily as he looks up at him. There’s blood smeared along the corner of his lip and he darts his tongue out to taste it.

“A human’s never made me lose my breath before,” he says, hissing softly. “Stupid human body has too many limits attached to it. If this was my body, I could fight forever.”

Chad nods, squeezing his wrists gently as he shifts up onto his knees. “I don’t doubt that not even a little. Ichigo’s pretty fierce when he wants to be. If I let you up right now—”

“I won’t lunge at you. I’m graceful enough to admit you got the better of me this time.” Shiro sighs up at him, and he uncurls his fingers from around Zangetsu’s blades. “I only lost because you know your body better than I know this body.”

“Yeah. You’d probably be able to kick my ass otherwise. Ichigo could,” Chad admits, not quite sure he wants to let go of Shiro’s wrists just yet.

Shiro’s eyes go heavy lidded beneath him and Chad pauses at the sight of his face, watching him slowing his breathing as he catches his breath. “Y’know, I learned a valuable thing from that big kitty cat who’d rub all over King. Hollows, we don’t give a shit so much about emotions. You want a partner, you pick the strongest Hollow available.”

That is not entirely surprising. Chad thinks back to the small blond arrancar who put himself between Chad and the dark-haired Espada. “I guess that makes sense.”

“You beat me.” Shiro squirms and frees up a leg, hooking it around Chad’s waist and pulling him down, flat against his body. “Which makes you the strongest. And you’re Hollow enough for me. If King could be hung up on you, I don’t see why not.”

_ Oh, fuck. _ Chad lets go of Shiro’s wrists immediately, prying Shiro’s leg from around his waist and pushing himself up and away from the Hollow. “We are not doing this.”

“I don’t see why not.” Shiro pushes himself up into a sitting position, and Chad would be wrong, but he looks hurt. “You had a thing for King. I  _ look _ like him. Imagine that. When he comes back, you could have both of us. We’d be all yours.”

It had to go like this. It just  _ had _ to go like this. “Look, I feel bad about what happened with Ichigo. You have no idea how bad I feel about it. If I’d known—”

“You’d never have let it happen. I know. I got that. But you can still fix it. He’s not  _ dead _ and he’s going to need help when he comes back, right?” Shiro pauses, then skims his shirt up and over his head, tossing it behind him in the dirt, and Chad makes a point to look away from him. “You really gonna be able to tell him no when he comes back all sad and doe-eyed for you? You gonna tell  _ me _ no now? You won.”

Chad tips his head back and stares up at the false sky, not sure he can handle this right now. Everything has been steadily falling apart since he came home; he should have said no, stayed behind, and let the others handle everything that came after that.

_ No. Even if it was going to end up this way, I’d rather be here trying to help Ichigo and figuring out my relationship with Uryu rather than just staying at school. _

When he turns back around, Shiro is sitting there with his legs neatly crossed and Chad can see bruises forming on his skin and a few scrapes where his punches went wild. The hurt is still visible in his eyes even though the stubborn set of his jaw makes him look like he’s just pouting instead of anything else. Chad takes a deep breath and reminds himself to remain calm, then lowers himself to the dirt in front of Shiro.

“Listen, there is nothing wrong with you. I know that Uryu… Has mixed feelings, but I don’t dislike you and I never have,” Chad says slowly, and he watches Shiro’s eyes narrow slightly at him. “Ichigo… I did love him. I still do, in my heart, but that part of my life is over. He’s a good friend of mine, and maybe. Maybe I was personally hurt that he distanced himself, but now I realize he was struggling. All of us should have done better for each other.”

Shiro raises his eyebrows at him. “No offense, but this human emotional shit doesn’t really do it for me. Like I said, Hollows don’t care about that. We like fighting, we like strength. It’s what we thrive on. Adjuchas alone have to devour each other constantly just to avoid regressing because once they do, it’s over. No emotions involved there.”

“It sounds like fear to me,” Chad says, and Shiro makes a face at him.

He watches Shiro cock his head, a thoughtful expression crossing his face before he suddenly crawls across the distance in front of them, putting his face dangerously close to Chad’s. “If I beat the Quincy and proved to you just how strong I was—”

“Don’t fight Uryu,” Chad says sternly. “I’m not a Hollow. Just because I have Hollow-like powers, that doesn’t mean I’m a Hollow. I don’t think the same way that you do.”

“Humans are so complicated. Fine. I’ll just have to figure out some human-like way, then.” Shiro slides away from him, picking his shirt up and shaking it off. “Guess we better see if the old man is going to heal us up because I bet Orihime’d be mad to see his body messed up. Even if she’s not into him anymore, she’s going to be upset.”

That is true. Chad shakes his head, picking up one of Zangetsu’s swords to pass to Shiro. “Listen, I… What’s going on with Uryu right now, it’s just—”

“You think I’m gonna stop just because some Quincy has stuck his nose into something that really isn’t any of his business? Yeah, he cares  _ so much _ about King that he’d probably try to hurt me, and that’d kill King’s power.” Shiro smirks at him, and Chad doesn’t know what to say. “If he’s half the man King is, then he’ll really earn you. But if he can’t handle a little competition, he’s just going to have to deal with the loss.”

Before Chad can argue the point with him, Shiro flash steps out of his sight, and Chad is forced to drag himself along after, wondering how he got himself into this mess.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

“You know Grimmjow sleeps in my shop sometimes,” Urahara tells Chad while he’s in the process of healing him, frowning over the cuts in his skin even as he closes each of them up. “If you really want to know how to deal with Shiro, you could just ask him how Hollow culture works. It’s not like I could give you all that much help. Maybe the Visoreds—”

Chad shakes his head numbly. “I don’t think I could look a shinigami captain in the eye and ask them how to handle a Hollow that’s trying to, I guess, hit on you.”

“Then you should ask Grimmjow. To my knowledge, he’s been hitting on Ichigo for quite some time not, physically and figuratively.” Urahara beams, pleased with his word play.

The thought only has Chad despairing further. Talking to Grimmjow might just get his head ripped off for the effort now that he thinks about it; telling him that Shiro is coming after him might make the older arrancar jealous, and the last thing chad can handle right now is a pissed off cat coming after him to weed out the competition. Though, maybe Grimmjow has only been trying to woo Ichigo. Maybe Chad can get away with just trying to pass it off as Shiro’s fascination and nothing more. It’s worth a shot, right?

It’s either that, or ask a shinigami, and he isn’t sure he can go through with that.

“I guess I’ll have to talk to him at some point,” Chad admits. “Is he here right now?”

Urahara shakes his head. “I’m surprised you didn’t feel his reiatsu, but I did warn Yoruichi-san that you two were coming. He wanted to train with her a bit. I think they’ve developed a soft spot for each other that comes from handling battle together.”

Chad understands that; battle brotherhood is real. “Maybe I can find a reason to hang around for a little while and I’ll talk to him when he gets back from—”

“I wouldn’t do that, actually. Karin’s coming in to train in an hour and I’m sure Grimmjow can go much longer than that.” Urahara finishes with one cut and moves on to the next one, clicking his tongue as he does. “I can call you to let you know, though. What did you two do to each other? Ichigo would never have done this much damage to a friend.”

“Shiro was the one who did this,” Chad reminds him. “We were just sparring to get some of the energy out and we just… Lost control, I guess. Been a long time since I’ve trained with anyone who could survive the full force of my powers like that.”

Urahara frowns at him. “So that was what caused this, hmm? You beat him, and now he thinks that means you should get to… Claim him? Hollows are very interesting.”

“There were a pair of arrancar in Hueco Mundo that I keep thinking back to,” Chad admits, not keen on mentioning anything other than that. He doesn’t want Urahara to know which ones. “Maybe they were a couple. It seemed like it. It was too bad I passed out before I could learn absolutely anything useful about the two of them.”

“Hollows are… Interesting creatures. If Ichigo was here, he could probably get Nel to tell you anything you wanted to know, but.” Urahara shakes his head. “I doubt Shiro would be so welcoming. It benefits him if you know just what he’s willing to tell you.”

Chad drums his fingers on the table, wincing when Urahara knits together another gash on his forearm. Ichigo’s blades are dangerously sharp. “I suppose that’s true. I mean… Part of me is flattered. Hollows are powerful, and he’s… Shiro really isn’t so bad.”

“You weren’t here to see him inside of Ichigo’s Inner World, conversing with the Quincy. The two of them got along quite well.” Urahara looks thoughtful, then, as he finishes with the last of Chad’s multitude of injuries and starts on the bruises. “He was worried about Ichigo. I don’t think he calls him King as a joke. He cares about him. I could believe that he’s gotten his head around to hitting on you because you’re Ichigo’s friend.”

_ If only you knew the half of it, Urahara-san. _ After all, Chad kept quite a few of the smaller details to himself. The last thing he wants people to know is about him and Ichigo, not right now. Not in the midst of all of this. “I guess so. I just don’t know what to do about this. He’s a Hollow. Their way of thinking… It seems antiquated to me.”

“Hollow culture is very strange,” Urahara agrees. “Well, this is all I can really do for you. Try not to get into another fight before Karin comes to study. You can do whatever you want after, and I’ll call you if Grimmjow seems like he’s in a talking mood.”

Chad thanks him and wonders outside to find Shiro standing on the curb waiting for him, hands shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie with the hood up. The way he smirks up at Chad says it all, really, but Chad does his best not to think too much about it as he takes Shiro by the elbow and leads him down to the bus stop. He wants to go see Uryu, but…

“You don’t want me to go see the Quincy with you?” Shiro asks, nudging his elbow into Chad’s ribs. “Come on. I’ll behave. If you’d just let me kick his ass, it’d be easier on him to lose, but I can do it the fair way. I’ll even be  _ nice _ to him.”

“You can’t say a single thing to him about what you said back there,” Chad says. He could drop Shiro off at home, but that almost seems  _ more _ dangerous right now.

Shiro grins at him, showing off all of his teeth. “I’ll play fair. It’ll be more fun when I win.”

What the fuck did Chad manage to get himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh look it's going down


	6. Chapter 6

The phone call from Urahara comes at eight in the evening, late enough that the sky is already dark and Chad should be considering dinner and convincing Shiro to go to sleep in his bed to ensure he does not fall asleep on the balcony again. Instead, he calls Orihime to come watch over Shiro— partially to keep him from wandering away outside and partially because he doesn’t want Shiro to follow him— and catches a bus to Urahara’s shop. Ururu is waiting at the door for him, letting him into the shop that’s closed early.

“Sorry for making you wait so late, but our resident feline Arrancar was very busy with one of his queens.” Urahara taps him on the shoulder with his fan. “Hope this isn’t too late to have the conversation you wanted, though. University students stay up late, right?”

“It’s not too late, Urahara-san. Thank you for doing this for me.” To say the day has been stress-free since going back to Ichigo’s apartment is far from true; Shiro has been doing some strange form of flirting ever since the two of them were alone.

Urahara smiles thinly at him. “No worries, Sado-kun. How has Shiro been holding up?”

“He seems fine.” Chad shrugs, not sure what else to say. “He’s just been flirting with me.”

“Is that so? That’s very interesting. Feel free to tell me more.” Urahara flips his fan open, but Chad can imagine it hiding a much more lecherous smile and some impure intentions.

Instead of giving him any more material to work with, Chad walks further into the shop and finds Grimmjow sprawled across a couch in the back, his head tilted back so the light from the television casts strange lights and shadows across his throat. He rolls his head forward when Chad steps into the doorway, narrowed blue eyes fixed on him. Though he is far from the destructive entity who wanted nothing more than to kill Ichigo, Grimmjow is still a dangerous predator, and forgetting that would be a mistake.

He scratches the edges of skin around his Hollow mask, bared fangs pressed against his cheek and jawline. “You need something? Urahara said you wanted to talk.”

“I have to ask you a very strange question.” Chad sits down on a chair, wanting to give Grimmjow as much space as possible. “It’s about Hollow culture. Has Urahara-san told you what’s been going on with Ichigo lately? I assume someone must have.”

“Yeah. I heard about that.” Grimmjow smirks at him. “You getting along well with  _ him? _ ”

Chad sighs heavily. “I am. He’s not hard to get along with. I know… That we might not have been actual allies in the past, but I’m coming to you as humble as I can.”

“I’ve fought the dude. You don’t gotta sugarcoat him to me. I know how Ichigo is when it comes to that Hollow of his.” Grimmjow looks thoughtful, rubbing a thumb over his lower lip. “He makes Ichigo stronger. When he’s in control, he’s wild and violent. He’s just like any regular Arrancar by that. Would probably get along with Nnoitra real well.”

Chad winces; that is the  _ last _ Arrancar he wants to think about. “Right, so. Hollow culture. I was sparring with him earlier, and I beat him. And he started talking like that… Made me a better partner? Or a partner that could just take whatever I wanted to.”

“Before Aizen walked into Hueco Mundo and gave us a purpose, Barragan was king. And we just gave into natural instinct. The strong survived, the weak died. If you were weak, maybe you’d ally yourself with someone who was strong.” Grimmjow looks quiet, thoughtful for a moment. Almost introspective. “Like my Fraccion. They were weaker, and they supported my strength. Couldn’t speak for Tesla, he’s exceptionally fucking weird. Nel’s Fraccion respect her. Halibel’s Fraccion are all over her but I’m sure it started with strength. We’re much more like predators than regular humans. But…”   


“But what?” Chad asks, not sure if he wants the proper answer.

Grimmjow heaves a sigh. “Look, I don’t know everyone’s choices when it comes to picking up mates. I obviously didn’t. I mean, I’ve had sex, but it wasn’t based on me prostrating myself before someone stronger. It was because I wanted to. But I’m sure that others probably do that shit. Give up your body to earn safety and protection.”

“Fuck.” Chad drags a hand down his face; this is not what he wanted to hear. This is not what he wanted to think about. Is Shiro afraid for his safety because of all the shinigami around? Is he looking for protection after how traumatic it was to have his Inner World invaded? “How do I turn him down without making this into some kind of thing?”

Instead of answering, Grimmjow smiles and leans back against the couch once more. “Just tell him you don’t wanna dick him down. Can’t be hard. You’ve turned Ichigo down before.”

“That’s not what this is about. I don’t even know how you know anything about that.” Why would Ichigo talk to Grimmjow about— No, of course he would talk to Grimmjow. None of their friends seemed to know anything about it; he’d told a complete stranger.

Sighing, Grimmjow swings his legs up onto the couch, stretching out on his back, luxuriating like a cat. “That’s what this is about. Look, that little demon of Ichigo’s wouldn’t be into you if he wasn’t already. I think you should have been able to put those pieces together.”

“No, I… Even if I don’t like that, I understand that’s part of it. He’s told me about it more or less.” Chad tips his head back, staring up at the ceiling, the shadows stretched across it constantly shifting because of the television screen. “I can’t just fix that and stop all of this. How much do you know? How much did he tell you about what happened to us? Because I feel like you know more about this than you should.”

Grimmjow looks at him like he’s looking right through him. “I always wondered what was special about you, y’know. Like, Ichigo’s never seemed ordinary to me. Not for a human, not for a shinigami, not for— Anything. He’s always been special.”

Chad presses his lips together. “What did he tell you, Grimmjow? I deserve to know.”

“Just that the two of you stopped getting along after a while, and he felt like it was his fault. Wasn’t trying hard enough with anyone.” Grimmjow shrugs, runs a hand through his own hair. “Felt like he was failing everyone and everything and couldn’t do shit about it. I think he felt useless. Used to fighting and not having anything or anywhere to put it.”

The world had been quiet since Yhwach’s defeat until just recently, that much Chad knows to be true. There were probably still Hollows who wandered into Karakura Town, but when he and Ichigo stopped talking, there had been no earth-shattering tragedies for months. He was enjoying the quiet, enjoying the peace, enjoying having a normal life even if he would never quite manage to be a normal person ever again.

When Aizen was defeated and Ichigo lost his powers, Chad had a reason to keep fighting, to keep training and growing stronger because he wanted to be able to protect Ichigo the same way that Ichigo had protected all of them. Unable to fight to defend himself, he was vulnerable. But he’d gotten his powers back and more, and he no longer seemed like he’d need to be protected. Certainly, he was fine leading up to… Whatever happened between them. That last night, the last conversation the two of them had face-to-face.

“Did you love him?” Grimmjow asks, staring at him with too-honest eyes. “I think you did.”

“Of course I did.” What kind of question is that? “I don’t know what happened. It felt like it happened all at once. But… He’s not been doing well for a long time, is that it?”

“I think you know that.” Grimmjow flashes his teeth, but there’s no joy in the expression, so Chad can hardly call it a smile. “I only ever came to his place once, but it was a mess. Smelled bad. He said he hadn’t had time to clean up recently, but all we got now is time.”

Chad feels a slight annoyance tug at his gut. “I didn’t even know about the apartment.”

“Not surprised. Hollows keep their nests safe just in case.” When Chad gives Grimmjow a sharp look, Grimmjow only arches a brow at him. “What? He is part Hollow. You know it.”

Of course he does; he’s been living with that Hollow for the last few days, something that Chad never thought was possible. “I just… I don’t want to hurt Shiro. I don’t have feelings for him. I had feelings for Ichigo. Yes, I loved him. But Shiro isn’t him, he’s a part of him.”

Grimmjow studies his face for a long moment. “So what you’re saying is that Shiro is a part of Ichigo, which makes it sound suspiciously like he’s part of what you loved in the first place. Once, Ichigo told me the Quincy in him likes when it’s sunny in his Inner World. When he’s happy. You think Shiro can’t feel that? You think they’d know if he was in love?”

The question throws Chad off; he finds himself staring at the table in silence, not sure what to say in response, not even sure he understands what Grimmjow is saying to him. When a hand drops down on his shoulder from far too close, he jumps and lifts his head to find Grimmjow standing next to him, one hand gripping his shoulder tightly.

“I gotta go back to Hueco Mundo. Halibel’s waiting for me, and I don’t like making a lady wait.” Grimmjow’s voice is stern as his eyes meet Chad’s. “Consider what I just said and roll with it. It’s all the same man, kid. There’s no beginning and no end to him.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Shiro gives him an odd look when he drops down on the couch and stares at the television, saying nothing after Orihime let herself out for the night. Silence stretches between them for a long moment before Chad can feel the Hollow shifting next to him, can feel the brush of Ichigo’s hair against his shoulder as Shiro creeps closer to look up into his face. Grimmjow’s words keep churning through his mind, making it impossible to focus on anything, but Chad could never focus on Ichigo even if he wanted to.

Once, Ichigo told him about Mugetsu, about the training to achieve the Final Getsuga Tensho necessary to defeat Aizen Sosuke once and for all. How his Quincy and Hollow used to be a singular being inside of him, how it was all a part of him. Knowing about Ichigo’s history only made that clear; the Quincy part of him was as deep as his blood, and so was Shiro, a result of the Quincy who attacked Kurosaki Masaki when she was a teenager. Ichigo had been born with both of these dual energies inside of him.

In every way, they were a part of him. A bigger part of him than his shinigami powers, that much was certain. Chad continued to see them as separate entities inside of Ichigo, never quite certain what it meant that they were all him, all a part of him. His zanpakuto spirit was the Hollow; he was unlike every other shinigami in that respect, and yet he was, because it was a part of his soul given shape and form and turned into a weapon.

_ Both _ of them, when Nimaiya forged his true zanpakuto. Chad has seen him fight with the dual blades and knew what it meant and simultaneously never thought much about it, but the truth was impossible to ignore. Kurosaki Ichigo had never been something as boring and ordinary as  _ normal; _ he was always so much more than that.

“What’s going on?” Shiro’s breath curls across his cheek and Chad leans away from him, turning to look at him. At those gold and black eyes in Ichigo’s face. “Where’d you go?”

“I went to talk to Grimmjow. I had some questions for him.” Lying isn’t going to get him anywhere, and Chad knows that he couldn’t really lie to Shiro anyway.

Shiro cocks his head. “The big blue cat? What’d you need to talk to him about?”

“How does your relationship with Ichigo work?” Chad asks, and Shiro frowns at him as if he doesn’t understand the question. “Grimmjow told me about the sunshine and—”

“Ossan. Yeah. He likes it when it’s sunny ‘cause it means King’s happy, but it hasn’t been sunny in here,” Shiro taps himself on the temple, “in a long time. It’s just rain. Ossan hates the rain. I know what it means, but like. Weather conditions don’t bother me.”

Chad levels him with a look. “Are you telling me that you don’t care if he’s upset or not?”

“I mean.” Shiro shifts away from him and sighs, thumping his head back against the couch as he stares up at the ceiling, studying the plaster. “Yeah, of course I give a shit. But—”

Cutting him off, Chad turns to look at him. “If the Quincy inside of him can prefer the sunshine, that means he wants Ichigo to be happy, right? Can you feel what he feels? Is that supposed to be a parallel? You prefer the weather that makes him happy because—”

“Holy shit, I get it. You’re asking me if I tried to get you to fuck me because King wanted to, right?” Shiro smirks at him and Chad exhales slowly, not wanting to go there. Not now. “By that logic, shouldn’t you be asking me if ossan is into you, too?”

“He isn’t here right now, so I’m a little less concerned about that,” Chad admits.

Shiro’s smirk spreads across his face and he turns, folding his legs beneath him slowly, taking his time with rearranging his body and managing to look like he has no idea how to just move them fluidly on his own. “But now you’re worried about it. Why don’t you tell me?”

“Why don’t you tell me why you hit on me in the first place?” Chad demands.

“You think I did it ‘cause King loved you.” Shiro curls a hand beneath his chin and smirks up at him. “Hollows don’t  _ love, _ Sado-kun. We don’t have those kinds of feelings. Didn’t you hear about Ulquiorra?” The way he draws the name out makes Chad tense; he remembers Orihime telling him about the stoic-faced Espada who nearly killed Ichigo not once but twice and remembers the flutter of black wings on the battlefield. “No feelings. Nothing. Empty inside. Our soul chains are gone. Our hearts are gone. I can’t love you.”

Chad shakes his head. “Bullshit. You’re unlike any other Hollow who’s ever existed and you know that. I deserve to know if you’re going to hit on me—”

Shiro climbs into his lap so suddenly that Chad isn’t prepared for it and he finds himself shoved onto his back on the couch, Shiro perched on top of him. “Maybe you’re not a real Hollow, but you feel close enough, taste close enough. You know what’s funny? You wouldn’t have really hurt me even if I pushed you to it. I know you wouldn’t have.”

“Because it’s his body,” Chad says, but Shiro only shakes his head and leans closer.

“Nah.” Shiro smiles at him, and the expression is all teeth. “Because you like me. Maybe not as a person, but I wouldn’t blame you. You wanna keep me safe. That’s been your whole thing. Protect me, take care of me. Like a regular prince charming.”

Chad decides to risk it. “I don’t see you complaining about it, though.”

“Mm, there’s that.” Shiro climbs off of him, ruffling his hair as he walks around the coffee table. “I’m tired of talking about this, though. Yeah, I know what King feels. Yeah, I can feel it. No, it didn’t make me feel anything for you ‘cause I can’t. But for someone who keeps insisting he’s not the Hollow in charge, you sure are the one living here with me.”

He walks down the hallway and Chad can hear the bedroom door shut just before his brain really processes those words and he sits up as reality washes over him. Of course he’s the one here with Shiro, given that he can handle him just fine, can ever understand why he’s been so upset and aggravated since all of this started, but it was never because of anything. It was just that Shiro needed someone on his side because he was confused and tired and a little scared, and maybe Chad needs to rethink all of this.

His phone vibrates with a text message and he reaches for where it’s charging on the side table, fingers just brushing the screen when a loud crash echoes through the apartment.

“Shit.” Chad pushes himself off of the couch and darts down the hallway, not even bothering to knock before shoving the bedroom door open and stepping inside.

“Knocked over the dresser,” Shiro informs him. “I think I yanked a drawer too hard.”

“I see.” Chad shakes his head at the sight but can imagine it all too well, Shiro pulling the entire dresser over the moment a drawer did not come out as far as he expected it to, or maybe it was stuck. “Let me set it back up. What were you even doing when you pulled it over— No, never mind. Let me just set it back up for you.”

No sooner does Chad straighten the dresser before Shiro is suddenly far too close to him once more, almost pressed up against his side. “That strength of yours is something else. King’s not weak in any sense of the word, but he’d struggle to do that these days.”

Is he flirting again? Chad isn’t sure he can tell any longer. “Ichigo hasn’t been taking care of himself, so that’s only natural that he’s going to have lost muscle. That’s probably why you weren’t able to defeat me today. Ichigo was strong even before he was a shinigami.”

“I remember those days.” Shiro’s hand ghosts over Chad’s bicep, a single finger tracing the line of one muscle. “You used to protect him and he protected you because you didn’t like violence. If you were a true Hollow, I wonder how long you would have survived.”

Before Chad can remind him that he  _ isn’t _ a Hollow or anything even close to it, Ichigo’s cell phone rings. He bypasses Shiro to reach it, pausing when he sees Uryu’s name on the screen before picking it up and answering it. “Uryu, you don’t normally call so la—”

_“We have a problem.”_ The tone of Uryu’s voice is short and urgent, and Chad can almost see the quick, jerky movements of his body as he tries to prepare himself. _For what?_ _“It appears we didn’t seal the Espada effectively enough and they’ve shown up downtown. Feels like old times, doesn’t it? We need to get down there now.”_

Chad nods, already doubling back to his bedroom to pick up a few things, vaguely aware of Shiro following behind him. “Of course. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

_ “We might have to try to kill them this time, though that didn’t exactly  _ work _ last time. I’ll see you soon.” _ Uryu hangs up and Chad pockets the phone out of habit.

When he turns to leave the bedroom, Shiro is right behind him, and Chad almost runs right into him. “You heard Uryu. We need to go. There’s a Hollow attack—”

“What if I don’t want to go?” Shiro asks him, cocking an eyebrow up at him.

“Then I suppose you don’t have to go. We’ll handle it the best we can without you.” And not for the first time, Chad wishes Ichigo was back, because they might need the help.

But Shiro only goes back to Ichigo’s bedroom. So be it. Chad doesn’t have the time to convince him otherwise, and he doesn’t think he could if he wanted to.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

The first time they faced the Espada in battle, Chad was struck by how powerful they were. Everything he could pack into a single blow was not enough to so much as unsettle Nnoitra Gilga, an Espada with an impossibly strong hierro who could heal it should he step into his Resurreccion during battle. When they all discussed their fights after the fact, what he linger on was how all of the Espada fought with a level of intelligence and forethought, all of them understanding their abilities well and knowing how to make the most of them so that fighting them was difficult, and for some, impossible.

Not having Ichigo on their side hurts them. There is no other way to look at it. They do luck out in that at least, Grimmjow and Nelliel come to aid them, which makes him wonder about the current state of matters in Hueco Mundo half a second before he almost ends up gored by an Arrancar whose Resurreccion reminds him of a massive boar. Then he stops having the luxury of time to think and has to throw himself into the battle proper.

Stretched as thin as they are, he expects them to crumple instead of succeed. Even with powerful shinigami on their side, it had taken Ichigo himself to change the tide in many of the original battles. And the Espada have the experience of fighting the first time, remembering everything they did wrong, and learning how to search for weak spots.

When Chad tries to get even  _ close _ to Nnoitra Gilga— determined to make up for his earlier weakness— the boar Arrancar knocks him back halfway down the street.

Uryu is better suited for close combat than he used to be but there are still reishi arrows flying through the air, some missing their targets while others embed themselves into the flesh of swearing Espada. Rukia clashes again and again with an Espada who only laughs at her, a strange and maniacal sound as he bears down on her. A green javelin smashes into Orihime’s shield only to shatter and fire back against the Espada who threw it, black wings shadowing over all of them and blocking out the night sky ahead.

“We’re not gaining any ground here,” Uryu tells him when they’re close enough to speak, Uryu’s back slamming into his own so that the two of them can keep an eye on their opponents. “I don’t understand. It’s like they’re stronger this time.”

Minutely, Chad shakes his head. “I think they learned something last time.”

The rose-haired Espada who drops down in front of Uryu draws a shudder from him that has Chad daring to take his eyes off of the creature in front of him for just a moment. Before he can say anything, Uryu speaks. “What did you do to Kurosaki?”

“Excuse me?” The Espada pauses, golden eyes widening. “What did you say, Uryu-kun?”

_ They’re on a first name basis? _ Well, Chad supposes odder things have happened.

“What did you do to him? Where  _ is _ he?” Uryu’s hands move fast but the Espada is expecting the reishi arrow that comes and dodges it. “What did you  _ do _ to him?”

Sonida is fast. The Espada is there and then Chad feels it, pressure against his back, a hand pressed there for a fleeting moment before he finds himself being thrown at the boar Arrancar almost faster than he can catch himself. He has to dodge a punch that would have flattened him and twists his head to see with frightened eyes that the Espada is up close and personal now, one hand knotted in the front of Uryu’s shirt and the other gripping his chin with fingers that look to be bruising.

“Accusing me of things I haven’t even done.” The Espada smiles and then the fingers on Uryu’s jaw flicker, glowing red and black and  _ no, _ Chad thinks,  _ don’t.  _ “I should just—”

The reishi arrow slices through the night, embedding itself in the Espada’s shoulder.

A shriek of indignation and rage has the Espada stumbling back, letting Uryu go in the process as he removes the arrow. Chad swings his head around, wondering where it could have come from. He struggles to remember so much of what Uryu told him about his days as a member of the Sternritter. That Uryu was the only impure Quincy who survived, and so many Quincy died, but did one of them survive? Did  _ any _ of them survive?

“When did you get  _ friends, _ Uryu-kun?” The Espada demands, advancing on Uryu once more.

The second reishi arrow misses only because the Espada darts back at the last minute, head whipping toward the source; Chad can only barely pick out the shape of a figure down the street, but in the dark there are so few details. But when the winged Espada makes a beeline for that spot, the sheer deluge of reishi arrows that fire in his direction is frankly shocking and at such a high frequency that even Uryu seems taken aback.

One of them catches the Espada in the wing and he flashes back away from the scene. His calm, stoic voice seems to reach everyone at once. “Fall back. We need a new plan.”

“Already?” Nnoitra swings his head around, black hair tousled from battle though the cruel mask of his face is alight with joy. “So be it, I guess. Let’s go, Tesla.”

The boar Arrancar moves toward the sound of his voice and Chad’s eyes widen at the realization that the calm Arrancar who blocked his final attack against Nnoitra could be that hulking beast. But the other Arrancar move just as quickly, their Sonida carrying them far from the battle and toward a garganta that the winged Espada opens in the sky.

In the silence that follows, Chad pushes himself to his feet and looks down the street, unsurprised to see Uryu’s gaze already fixed on that very location.

“Who’s there?” Uryu finally asks. “You’re among potential allies if you reveal yourself. If the Espada are your enemy as well, you have nothing to fear from us.”

_ They might, _ Chad thinks. He isn’t exactly going to extend a welcoming hand to a member of the Wandereich no matter how desperate they are for allies right now in understanding just what the hell is going on. But when he hears faint footsteps, he quells his own uncertainty and steps toward Uryu, noting that the shinigami dispatched to assist them seem to hesitate, hovering where they stood when the Espada retreated. Even Rukia seems reluctant to move from her position, and Byakuya’s eyes are cold.

When the figure steps into the light spilling from the street light overhead, though, Chad freezes. He can hear the murmurs of the people around them.  _ Impossible, _ more than once.

Kurosaki Ichigo stands in the artificial golden light with a Quincy bow in one hand.

“You’ve learned how to manifest a bow? I… When did…” Uryu falls quiet for a moment, his expression indiscernible, and Chad opens his mouth to say something when Ichigo tilts his head up just slightly and he can see his sclera are no longer black. “Kurosaki..?”

Had Shiro’s decision to stay behind been the catalyst for Ichigo to return to his own body? Was that why he did it? Ichigo fought and became strong in order to protect the people he cared about, and Chad was there to see how much it hurt him when he was no longer capable of doing that after he lost his shinigami powers. It was a clever trick, forcing him to retake his own body in order to fight to help the people he cared about, but why would he fight using a Quincy bow instead of his zanpakuto?

When had he learned how to use a Quincy bow? It made sense he would know how; Chad vaguely recalls an afternoon where Ichigo talked about his Quincy abilities, but only once and how Blut came to him naturally, but he’d never managed to master anything else and seemed content to have his Quincy power materialize into a short sword. Had he abandoned that in favor of a bow? Was it a technique he trained in secret? Impossible, though, because surely he would have gone to Uryu to teach him how to do it properly.

“No.” Ichigo shakes his head, and the bow retracts slowly until Chad realizes, with a start, that it’s retracting into the hilt of Zangetsu’s short sword, reforming the shape of a black blade. “I’m afraid not. I wish that I could say yes and reassure all of you.”

The quality of his voice is… Off, again, and Chad frowns because this time he can’t place quite why that is. He watches Ichigo return the short sword to his belt and realizes the long sword is missing, the long sword that holds the power of Ichigo’s Hollow.  _ What the hell? _ Ichigo would never fight without Zangetsu wholly present. It wasn’t like him.

Uryu’s eyes widen with understanding and his arm shoots out, fingers tipping Ichigo’s head back so the light bathes his face more completely. “I see. I wondered why Kurosaki would fight without his shinigami powers, but it would make sense if it was because he did not have access to them. Except of course he does. There would be only one reason he can’t.”

Chad is about to ask him what he means when he  _ looks _ and takes a step back in realization.

Kurosaki Ichigo’s eyes are a pale, delicate blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i wonder what's going on. seven thinking emojis.


	7. Chapter 7

Ishida Uryu has had mixed feelings about Kurosaki Ichigo’s Quincy heritage since first being told of it. He spent most of his life considering himself one of the last Quincy alive and fought to preserve what that meant to him, taught to him by his grandfather, and that put him in opposition with and then in alliance with Ichigo. And then somewhere in between, serving as a member of the Sternritter, betraying the trust his friends had in him. And yet again  _ not really _ but this was finally a time where he could  _ do _ something for all of them.

Now he sits on his coffee table, his knees almost touching those of the Quincy in front of him, and finds himself at a loss for words. Should he be happy? Certainly, he never wanted to  _ remain _ the only Quincy, and the discovery of the Wandereich did not exactly mean he had more friends, more people who understood what it was like. He once wished Ichigo would just explore his Quincy power, but he seemed happy just the way he was.

No pressure, then. Uryu let him be. Ichigo  _ needed _ to be left alone.

“So you chose to show yourself because the Hollow did not want to fight with the rest of us.” Why should he be surprised? The irony was so great that Uryu wanted to laugh, or cry, or something. He’d grown up believing Quincies were chivalrous and strong and proud, and he finally meets one who is, and he lives inside of Ichigo’s Inner World.

_ Is it that Quincies are this way, or is it because of Kurosaki? _

The Quincy nods. “Yes. He is… Difficult. But I knew it would have upset Ichigo to learn that we allowed his friends to fight a difficult battle alone with no intention to help.”

“That sounds like Kurosaki-kun,” Orihime agrees. “What is your name, or do you have one?”

Silence for a moment before the Quincy exhales slowly. “I told Ichigo that my name was that of his zanpakuto, but otherwise, I have no name. I have never needed one.”

“Zangetsu,” Uryu murmurs, the name so familiar to him. “Well, regardless of whether the Hollow is his actual sword or not, I don’t care. We have a name for that one. What does Kurosaki call you? We’ll use the same name as he does out of respect for him.”

Again, the Quincy is silent. “He refused to stop using the name even when I told him it was no longer the correct name to use. So you may use Zangetsu, as it were.”

The quiet in the room is thick and Uryu pushes a hand through his hair, nodding slowly as he stares at the Quincy— at Zangetsu— sitting in front of him. Ichigo’s body, Ichigo’s  _ face _ but those pale blue eyes staring back at him, the same color as the reishi he wields so freely when he needs to fight. Something in his soul rings true, that this is  _ right, _ that this is  _ good _ and Uryu wishes he could quiet it because the last thing he wants to think about right now is how badly he’s wanted the company of another Quincy in his life.

“Do you have any idea where Kurosaki is?” he asks, and Zangetsu shakes his head slowly.

“I have been in every crevice of his Inner World. I have known every location by heart since the moment he was born. And yet…” Zangetsu falls silent, his head bowing. “I have failed to locate him. I feel as though he  _ must _ be there. I can feel his reiatsu, even now, and yet I cannot find him. All I ever wanted to do was protect him.”

Uryu nods slowly. “Quincy desire to protect humans at all costs. It only makes sense.”

He should brew some tea to keep himself centered, give his nervous hands something to do to take his mind off of this moment, off of the certainty that he was  _ meant _ to meet this Quincy spirit that resides inside of Ichigo’s soul. All of this time, all of this talk about his zanpakuto before he began dual-wielding, and Uryu would have never guessed it was a Quincy guiding him, giving him the insight he needed, the strength he sought. There is probably much more to it than that, but Uryu can hardly focus right now.

Slowly, he clears his throat. “I should apologize for the fact that the Hollow and I have not been getting along,” he says slowly, but Zangetsu raises his hand, shaking his head.

“You call him Shiro, yes?” Zangetsu asks, and Uryu nods. “He is difficult to get along with in even the best of moments. I understand that there were problems. I had not intended for him to gain control of Ichigo’s body. I’m still uncertain as to what happened.”

“You’ve never taken control of Ichigo’s body before now, though the Hollow has tried,” Rukia says, her expression stern and thoughtful. “How are you able to do it now?”

Zangetsu spreads his hands. “Because Ichigo is not here. We are merely his power, beings that live within his soul. Nothing different than your Sode no Shirayuki. I believe it is because of Hollowfication that Shiro is able to manage such a feat. I do not know how I can, as I should not even continue to be a being within his Inner World.”

Chad frowns. “Why would that be? Ichigo didn’t stop being a Quincy at any point.”

“I said goodbye to him for what I thought was the last time, but he centered my existence with this blade.” Zangetsu picks the smaller of the two blades from his lap, the black blade reflecting the light in the room. “It is why, I believe, it was possible to use it in order to fire reishi arrows. I am not able to access the true power of the zanpakuto, though.”

Uryu nods slowly, finger pressed to his lower lip. “Because Kurosaki held the two of you in balance, and I’m assuming you can’t be anymore because he’s not here.”

“Shiro and I are one in the same being. We used to be a single entity before… Everything. I only wanted to protect Ichigo from having to fight.” Zangetsu’s jaw clenches and his expression dims as he shakes his head. “But I failed to do that. He chose to become a shinigami, and it was only right to support his choice. And now, we are left in confusion.”

“We really need to find Kurosaki-kun, then,” Orihime murmurs. “But how can we? Shinigami already went into his Inner World to find him, and no one could do it.”

“He is  _ here, _ ” Zangetsu says firmly. “Of that, I am absolutely certain. I am sure I’d know.”

There is something unwavering in the tone of his voice that has Uryu sighing softly as he nods, unable to do anything but accept that Zangetsu’s words are true. Ichigo must be somewhere inside of himself; had Szayel sealed him away where not even the beings that inhabit his Inner World could find him? The possibility is worrisome. It would imply that perhaps visiting Aizen Sosuke is their only access to the true answer.

Uryu has been puzzled about  _ how _ he could have done such a thing. The Espada are stronger than when they last faced them, and are handling their battles with more intelligence, but the root of Szayel’s power has remained the same, and he’d demonstrated no such ability when Uryu faced him. Had he developed it especially for Kurosaki Ichigo?

_ How could he have known to develop such a technique? _ Uryu wonders.  _ He never faced Kurosaki head-on and would have no reason to know about the dual spirits living within his body. He should not have been able to parse this information out on his own. _

There are so many questions left to answer, and Uryu has no idea where to begin.

“So Shiro is just inside now,” Chad says, and Zangetsu nods.

“That’s probably for the best for now. I’m sure this situation has been difficult for him, but it’s important that we get answers, and he did not want to give us any.” Uryu runs a hand through his hair, puzzling through all of their options before settling on a simple question. “How long has Kurosaki been dying from the inside out, exactly?”

The room goes tense once more, but Uryu ignores it. They  _ need _ to know these things.

“For years now.” Zangetsu seems uncomfortable and relieved all at once, and Uryu wonders if he has been waiting for someone to ask this question. “The deterioration of his Inner World was impossible to ignore. It rained every day and would never cease.”

Uryu nods, making mental notes of each of Zangetsu’s words. “Right. And the rain signifies that he’s sad, correct? Maybe his mental vulnerability is what caused this to be able to occur. I just wonder how an Espada could have sealed him away in his own Inner World.”

“Mental vulnerability,” Rukia says slowly. “I don’t like what you imply with those words.”

This time, Uryu is flippant. “Do you want me to treat his very serious depression as just a sadness to get over? It isn’t. Depression is a mental illness, and treating it as such is a key element in helping to treat it. Kurosaki has intense depression, as we have all been told recently, but we need to accept it and move on with it in mind in order to help him.”

“Kurosaki-kun has been withdrawn and quiet more often,” Orihime says, and Uryu nods, remembering how empty his voice sounded on the phone. “Do you think that really could have made it worse, Ishida-kun? Let that Espada take advantage of him?”

“I do. I think we should start there and work our way backward.” Uryu turns to Zangetsu, who watches him silently. “Zangetsu-san, you were proficient with a Quincy bow, but I received specialized training as a member of the Sternritter. I would like to train you if I can so that you can continue to fight with us. If the Hollow does not wish to fight, then—”

“Pressuring Ichigo to fight is probably what got us into this position,” Chad interrupts, “so I don’t think it’s okay that we just push his body into more altercations like that one.”

Zangetsu shakes his head. “There is no forcing it. I chose to battle. It is what Ichigo would have wanted if he was not here to protect those he cares about. I would enjoy the ability to train his powers for him. He might be able to pick them up better from there.”

“He was already adept at Blut, but his father said his mother was, so that makes sense.” Uryu’s brain turns over the many options he has. “We can hone that to start.”

Orihime clears her throat. “Should we check on Shiro-kun? To make sure he is fine?”

“The Hollow is resting,” Zangetsu murmurs, patting her on the back of the hand. “You have no need to worry. One of my many duties to Ichigo has been to ensure that the dark and twisted part of his soul is looked after and cared for to maintain his power level.”

_ Do these two even get along? It seems like they don’t. _ “That’s good to know. As long as both of you are healthy, we can focus on Kurosaki. Is his Inner World still…”

“It rains continuously.” There is a deep sadness in Zangetsu’s voice when he says this, and Uryu nods slowly, frowning.  _ Kurosaki… _ “The raining was natural for many years, but he found peace. The buildings were always in pristine condition either way. It was only much later that they begin to show signs of decay. I have never seen such a thing before.”

As the depression grew worse, so did its effects on Ichigo’s Inner World. The thought makes Uryu sadder than he can find the words for at the moment.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says, and Zangetsu nods slowly. Though he probably shouldn’t, Uryu stretches a hand out, squeezing the Quincy’s wrist. “I promise you, we will figure this out.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

“You two should probably just stay here tonight,” Uryu tells Chad while he’s cleaning up the kitchen after their late dinner, determined to get food into his friends and allies since they had fought hard tonight. “It’s late. I don’t mind if Zangetsu-san stays the night.”

Chad’s smile is wry. “The two of you are getting along better than you did with Shiro.”

“What can I say? Zangetsu-san is… A normal Quincy, as far as I can tell. He’s also a lot more mild-mannered than Shiro. It’s natural.” Uryu shrugs a shoulder, not wanting to really admit to himself just how much the Hollow had been able to get under his skin without having to try all that hard. He wants to keep his head on straight so they can deal with this situation, get it handled and in their pasts as quickly as possible.

A heavy hand falls onto his shoulder, startling a small noise from his lips, and he scrabbles to keep the cup in his hands from falling into the sink and shattering into pieces. When he looks up, he finds Chad watching him, eyes just barely visible beneath the length of his bangs; his hair is getting so long, Uryu thinks. With a careful and tentative touch, he brushes Chad’s hair out of his eyes and smiles softly up at him, feeling his stomach warm at the sight of the taller man, at how close Chad is to him right now.

The rest of their friends have departed for the evening, Chad lingering the longest, and Uryu knows Zangetsu is just in the living room. Still, he risks it, leaning up on his toes, pressing his lips against Chad’s slowly, somewhat hesitantly, not sure what his reaction is going to be. When a large hand presses into the small of his back, Uryu gasps softly.

“I’m sorry this has been so complicated.” Chad urges him closer and Uryu throws caution to the wind, pressing up against the front of him. “We deserve to spend time together.”

Uryu drags his teeth over his lip. “Like I said, you should stay here tonight.”

Chad looks torn for a moment, but finally he sighs softly and nods. “All right. I’ll tell Zangetsu I’m too tired to make the trip back, and that he ought to rest anyhow.”

“I can tell him. He doesn’t bother me as much as Shiro does.” Uryu feels a little thrill in his gut, then stops when something occurs to him. “I just have the one guest room.”

Another nod from Chad. “That you do. Should one of us stay on the couch?”

“Seems unfair to make one of you sleep on the couch. We all need our rest.” Uryu knows an answer to the problem but draws it out, picking at the bottom of Chad’s shirt before he looks up at him, trying to keep his gaze determined. “You could share my bed if you wanted to. I wouldn’t mind, and there’s more than enough room for two people comfortably.”

He hopes Chad doesn’t ask him  _ how _ he knows that because he doesn’t want to go into the details of that night at all, determined to put it behind him. Maybe that is cold, but Uryu can hardly imagine things working out well if he divulges that information and lays it all out there for everyone; Ichigo made him promise to keep it between the two of them, and Uryu was happy to do that. There’s always that little tug at the back of his skull that says  _ you shouldn’t _ every time the two of them are too close to one another.

His father’s words refuse to die, it seems. All Uryu can really think about is that he keeps breaking the most simple rule, and nothing he tries seems able to make it quite stop.

_ Isn’t he a Quincy? _ Uryu wonders to himself, remembering the gleaming reishi of that arrow, one born of Kurosaki Ichigo’s soul.  _ There’s so much I want to ask you, Kurosaki, but you always leave right when I think I have the spine to broach these topics. _

Chad’s fingers tap him gently beneath the chin. “What is it, Uryu? You’ve gone quiet.”

“Just thinking about stupid things.” It does him no good to think these things when the one person he wants to speak to about it is no longer around. “So, would you like to?”

“Share your bed? I don’t mind.” Chad clears his throat and Uryu feels a soft warmth spread under his cheeks, ducking his head to hide from the bright overhead lights. “As long as you’d be comfortable with it. And I’d— Be a perfect gentleman about it—”

Uryu laughs suddenly, patting Chad on the chest. “Of course you would be. It’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t know if he’s relieved or disappointed to have the confirmation, which is maybe a symbol that he needs to get his head out of his ass and go to bed before he ends up saying something he regrets. With the kitchen clean, he returns to the living room, unsurprised to see pale blue eyes drooping shut for a moment before snapping back awake. All of them are exhausted, after all. All of them threw everything they had into that fight.

“Zangetsu-san,” Uryu says, touching him on the shoulder, “Sado is tired and is going to be spending the night here. You can as well, if you desire. The guest bedroom is yours.”

There is no argument; Zangetsu only nods and rises to his feet. “Thank you, Ishida-kun. That’s very kind of you. Unfortunately, I’m not used to being in possession of this body in any sense of the term, and I have no desire to test its limits this evening. I’ll take it.”

He does not ask why Chad would not be using the guest bedroom, and Uryu wonders if he already understands or if he simply does not care, seeing it as none of his business. All he knows is that he already likes him far better than he ever liked Shiro.

Once Zangetsu is set up in the guest bedroom— Uryu loans him pajamas because it sucks to sleep in jeans— Uryu takes Chad by the hand and leads him to his bedroom. Why he feels so anxious about this, he has no idea. Chad has been in his bedroom before because the two of them have studied in here before, but his stomach still flutters uncertainly as he pushes the door open and steps aside. He doesn’t want to let go of Chad’s hand.

“If you need pajamas, I don’t think— Oh.” Uryu nearly swallows his tongue when Chad pulls his shirt up and over his head, displaying so much bulging muscle under brown skin.

When he was younger, Uryu was struck by how strong Chad was naturally, how hard he worked to take care of himself alongside that. How gentle he was even though, to most men, he would have been terrifying. His very existence seemed to utterly decimate the masculinity of any insecure man around him, something Uryu always took vicious pleasure in given the crude remarks some of them would make about Chad’s ethnicity.

Now, though, in the privacy of his own bedroom, he walks up behind Chad, presses his hands to those broad shoulder blades. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.

Chad laughs softly. “Yes, Uryu, it’s fine. I don’t mind if you touch me. You know that.”

_ I do know that. _ Uryu huffs in annoyance at himself, thumbs tracing the line of Chad’s spine down the broad length of his back, toes curling inside of his slippers. He wants to map out the expanse of skin before him like a map, remembering each and every route, memorizing it so that he never forgets. By the time he reaches the small of Chad’s back, his face is hot and his fingers are quivering slightly, making him curse himself in a low voice.

When Chad turns around, Uryu’s fingers stumble over his abdominal muscles before he takes them back, not willing to show just how weak he feels right now. “Thank you.”

“Can I do the same?” There is a slight air of humor in Chad’s voice and Uryu tries to ignore the way his shoulders twitch at the question, looking down at his own shirt, considering.

“If you want to,” he finally says, slowly sliding his shirt off, trying to ignore how the cool air in the room whispers along his skin. “I guess I don’t mind, and it’s only fair.”

Callused fingers rasp against the underside of his jaw. “Only if you want to, Uryu.”

“Okay.” Uryu is aware of how small his voice sounds, shoving his hands into the small of his back to keep them out of the way. “I want to. You can touch me because I want you to.”

The soft hum of pleasure that rumbles up from Chad’s chest strokes down Uryu’s spine like a warm hand and then Chad touches him, fingers stroking over the slope of his throat, down to the ridges of his collarbones. Truth be told, Uryu hates his body and he always has, tired of the resemblance he bears to Ryuken, tired of the idea that he will probably end up looking just like him when his body finally settles into its permanent shape. Similar sharp features, the same milk pale skin. It’s upsetting even on the best days.

But Chad only touches him gently, carefully, fingers stroking over his skin like Uryu is precious and Chad wants to take good care of him.

When he exhales, his eyelids fluttering and threatening to close, Chad speaks. “You’re too hard on yourself, you know. You should learn how to take better care of yourself.”

“I know you’re right. I don’t want to end up like—” He bites off the name before he can say it, not wanting to get into it right now. He knows Chad and Ichigo would still be close if none of this had happened, and if they do manage to be there for Ichigo, that bond might emerge once more. Best not to sully it. “I’ll work on it. I really will. You’ll… Help me?”

“Of course.” Chad tips his chin up and kisses him, and Uryu makes a small noise against his lips, enjoying the closeness, the contact, the warmth. It’s almost enough to tempt him into seeing how far he can take this. If he wasn’t so exhausted… “When you run out of reasons to love yourself, I’ll be here to remind you what all of those reasons are.”

Uryu tries not to flush at those words, fighting to control his face. “Thank you.”

Chad chooses to sleep in only his boxers and Uryu tries not to think too much about that even though a part of him definitely wants to linger on the image for the future. He doesn’t know how he expects their sleeping situation to  _ go, _ really, but a startled little squeak of a sound definitely leaves his lips when Chad’s arm curls around his waist, pulling Uryu’s back against his bare chest. His face flames instantly and he’s glad for the position and the darkness of the bedroom to keep that hidden.

“Goodnight, Uryu.” Chad kisses the back of his shoulder and it takes  _ all _ of his willpower not to roll over and regret this entire night, something he’s very likely to do. “And thank you for being the stable one during this abrupt change in plans.”

Uryu smiles, rests his hand on top of the one pressed against his stomach. “No problem. Now get some rest. We all need to be ready for whatever is going to come next.”

After all, they have no idea what nasty surprise is waiting around the next corner.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Though he has never spoken about it in any great detail, Ishida Uryu knows what an Inner World is and finds himself walking among the familiar white stone buildings, now recognizing them with a sinking sensation in his stomach, fingers brushing along the marble. It all makes him think of the Wandereich and the Sternritter, the time he spent among their ranks desperate to get closer to Yhwach. Close enough to kill him.

Sometimes, Uryu thinks he can hear their voices on the wind. What a ridiculous notion, of course, but he supposes it might be possible. His own conscience keeps insisting there was a better way about all of this, that the Quincy  _ surely _ couldn’t be as twisted as those he met when he was finally confronted with the survivors of his own people. It’s all foolish, of course, a notion that makes no sense in the grand scheme of things, and he had been close enough to witness much of their brutality on an personal level. He knows how evil they were, no better than the Espada they had to pick off one by one.

He hopes that comparison does  _ not _ mean the Sternritter will make an appearance in their lives once more, not sure what he would do if he met Jugram Haschwalth again.

Wandering through this world in his sleep means that his mind is hyperactive even in his sleep, too many things to think through while his body refuses to properly shut down. So he ruminates here instead, tasting the reishi heavy in the air as he does. The return of the Espada, their enhanced strength and intelligence, their seeming lack of alignment with the ruling Arrancar of Hueco Mundo… What did all of it mean? And what had Szayelaporro Granz done to Kurosaki to seal him into his own Inner World?

During their battle, he’d demanded to know. And the answer had been less than illuminating.  _ Accusing me of things I haven’t even done. _ They had all assumed that it was Szayel’s science at work that must have caused this, but the more Uryu thinks on it, the less likely it seems. Had Szayel ever been such a powerful Espada? No, of course not. Even with his enhanced strength and speed, there was nothing  _ special _ about him, and not something that should have allowed him to bind Kurosaki Ichigo’s soul anywhere or to anything. So what did that leave them? Uryu has no idea. No concept of this.

His fingers continue to brush along the stretches of marble and his brain unfocuses from the question at hand, giving himself a chance to breathe. Perhaps Chad is right, and he should be kinder to himself. Trying to unravel a mystery that not even Urahara Kisuke has been able to figure out is going to end up giving him nothing but stress migraines.

_ We work with Zangetsu-san to hone Kurosaki’s Quincy abilities so that he can harness them upon his return, _ he tells himself.  _ We go from there. Perhaps… Perhaps one of us should enter Kurosaki’s Inner World. We know him better than the shinigami do. _

Maybe it is pretty to think so, but Uryu would  _ like _ to think he knows Ichigo better.

Something resonates along the white marble beneath his fingers and he jerks his hand away, eyes widening in alarm. What had that been? In all of his time here, the only reishi Uryu has ever detected has been in the air as it is everywhere else, tangible enough that he can use it to his advantage. But that…  _ That was reiatsu. _ And it could not have been his.

Uryu freezes, tilts his head. Wonders if the voices he sometimes hears on the wind are the product of his own contradictory mind or if they might be something else.

Following the reiatsu would be dangerous— But this is Uryu’s Inner World, the place where his being and his soul can become one, a place that is meant to be a direct link to his being. If something is here that ought not to be, then he should do something about it. Maybe it will give him an insight into how Ichigo managed to vanish within his own.

_ And if the same thing happens to me, they aren’t going to be able to do anything about it. Maybe they won’t even know. But what if this isn’t here the next time I come back? _

He doesn’t remember feeling this reiatsu prior to now. If he risks waiting until morning to tell the others and tries to track it back, he may not be able to locate it a second time. And if it could help them at all, he has to pursue it. If it harms him…  _ Ryuken may be able to do something about that. He knew about Letz Stil and Stil Silver. _

Putting his fate in his father’s hands a  _ third _ time does not set well with him, but he has no choice. If this could help Ichigo, then Uryu has to do  _ something _ to save him.

He presses his hand to the marble and follows the thrum of reiatsu, unable to ignore how twisted it feels, how  _ off, _ like something is choking it, distorting it. Everything about it makes his soul flinch back in reaction, as if the source of his reiatsu, as if its very reiryoku is being crushed or broken in some way to cause such a reaction. Even the most unstable of the Espada had been smooth and easy to sense when he tried.

Uryu follows it deeper and deeper, his senses telling him to  _ turn back now before it’s too late _ but he ignores them, determined to forge forward no matter what he finds. He can fight here. He can draw in reishi and battle if he must. And he  _ will _ if he has to.

For the friends he loves, Ishida Uryu will do almost anything, risk his own life even.

When he finds the source of the reiatsu, the feeling leaves his legs. His knees buckle, thudding against the marble floor beneath him as he gazes ahead of him. Impossibly, improbably, darkness stretched over blinding white.

Uryu does not scream. Instead, he drags himself closer to the being and wonders if it is too late to turn his back on Soul Society and the shinigami one final time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so a head's up about this story: this was written with a very loose concept in mind involving shiro, chad's hollow-based powers, and his complicated relationship with both ishida uryu and kurosaki ichigo. this story is still going to involve all of that in a much more concrete way because i know exactly what i want to do with it.
> 
> but that being said, the plot of this is probably going to explode. and it's going to get dark. i just want you guys to be aware of that. also, this story is in line with the canon events of the newest light novel series given that kubo has okayed them as canon. it's going to cover some events from that novel series and kind of turn everything on its head. i only just recently learned about a lot of the darker things in this series and i'm just. i'm upset, to be honest, and i want to fix them and create the happy ending that bleach truly should have had instead of whatever this is.
> 
> that being said, chad/uryu and chad/ichigo is still a super important theme in this work, so if you're here for the relationships, you're still definitely going to get them. just now there's going to be some mild political themes underneath that and some much more visceral discussion of what is truly right and wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

“You’ve never used a Quincy bow before, have you?” Uryu asks, watching as Zangetsu stands as still as he can, arms poised in the same position he’d held when he fought with them the night before. “It shows. It’s fine, though. Kurosaki fights with a zanpakuto normally, and no Quincy I’ve ever met was just good with a weapon from the onset.”

Zangetsu nods once, his eyes fixed firmly ahead. “Is my posture off, then?”

“A bit.” Uryu creeps closer, wondering how he can adjust before just giving up the idea of being  _ careful, _ almost pressing himself against Zangetsu’s back, fingers slipping beneath his wrist to straighten the angle, hands smooth his arm into the proper position.

“I can already feel the difference.” Bright blue eyes cut in Uryu’s direction. “It’s more comfortable this way. Who taught you how to use the bow?”

“My grandfather, before he passed away. He was the victim of a shinigami’s experiments.” The memory is still bitter in the back of Uryu’s throat but he shakes it away, not wanting to deal with it right now. There are more pressing matters to deal with in the present, after all. He promised he would help Zangetsu train so that Ichigo could access his Quincy power more readily. “You should be able to feel the reishi in the air around you. It’s easily enough harnessed, as I’m sure you know. So focus on drawing that into an arrow now.”

Another nod, and he watches that gaze harden and sharpen once more, unsurprised when an arrow blooms into life in the bow. Most Quincy create the arrows as soon as they draw the bow back, but Uryu was not looking forward to the prospect of burning his fingers if he needed to correct how Zangetsu held the bow. That it comes from the hilt of a sword is jarring enough considering how often Uryu hated the idea of fighting with a sword.

A sword was the weapon of a shinigami, not of a Quincy. Not of the Quincy Uryu cared about, at any rate. He does not know how he feels about the Sternritter to this day.

His eyes drift across the atmosphere before pointing to the top of a nearby platform of earth. “Aim for the top. Stick the arrow in the very edge if you can.”

He is still far too close when Zangetsu shifts his aim, his hands moving to correct the smallest posture issue so that he feels the blowback of energy when the arrow soars through the air. It rolls across his skin like electricity and he presses his lips together as he watches over the tops of his glasses. When the arrow slices through the edge of the platform and elicits a shriek from above them, Uryu almost leaps out of his skin.

“Oi!” A familiar head of violet hair appears over the edge of the platform. “What was the meaning of that? I’m only watching over you to make sure you’re fine!”

Uryu narrows his eyes. “Yoruichi-san? What are you doing out here?”

The woman is gone from the platform and in front of them a moment later, huffing in annoyance as she pokes Uryu in the chest. “Just as I said, watching over you. Kisuke said to keep an eye out since he—” She glances at Zangetsu. “Isn’t someone we know yet.”

“We were just training so that Kurosaki can use his Quincy powers when he returns.” Uryu shakes his head. “I had no idea you were sitting up there. It was just a fair distance.”

Zangetsu frowns, his eyes still fixed on the platform. “I was off by a few centimeters.”

“It was a good start. I was much farther off the first time I ever fired an arrow.” Uryu pats him on the shoulder, relieved when the rough line of Zangetsu’s mouth softens into a slight smile. “He’s safe, Yoruichi-san. Ah, Zangetsu-san—”

“Zangetsu. There’s no need to use an honorific. Ichigo doesn’t.” Zangetsu frowns. “Well,  _ ossan _ isn’t particularly an honorific. But there’s no need.”

Uryu nods once. “Zangetsu, then. Continue firing while I watch. I need to speak to Yoruichi-san about something private if you don’t mind?”

Of course, Zangetsu shakes his head, already drawing the bow back once more. “Do as you need to do. Do not allow me to intrude on your personal life, Uryu.”

Yoruichi gives him an odd look but Uryu guides her away from where Zangetsu stands, putting a fair amount of distance between the two of them before looking up at her. Asking a shinigami for assistance is not something he wants to do, not about this matter, but this is better than asking a member of the Gotei Thirteen who would likely be suspicious about why he was asking in the first place. At least Yoruichi might keep this just between the two of them if Uryu asks her to, or she might understand the nature of his asking and just guide him. He’s hoping for either of those two options.

“I wanted to ask you something,” he says. “It’s just… I’ve never been able to ask someone this question before, and I don’t want to ask Ryuken. I don’t like talking to him.”

Sympathy fills her golden eyes. “Your father, yes? I know you two don’t get along.”

“That’s him.” Uryu wishes it  _ wasn’t, _ but he has no other choices in terms of parentage at the moment. “Do you know anything about the Inner World of a Quincy?”

For a moment, Yoruichi is quiet, head tipped back, eyes fixed on the fake sky above them before she sighs softly and shakes her head. “No, I’m afraid I don’t. In fact, you mentioning it at all is an anomaly to me. Makes sense, though. Quincy and shinigami aren’t as different as they seem to be. I’m not surprised that you have one, not at all.”

“Ah, I see.” Uryu presses his lips together, then looks at her once more. “What do shinigami see in their Inner Worlds? I’ve heard you convene with your zanpakuto there, but I was wondering if there was anything else other than that. Or if that was it.”

Yoruichi presses her fingers to her lips, looking thoughtful. “Everyone’s Inner World looks different, Uryu. Mine and Kisuke’s do not look the same. Ichigo’s is different from any I’ve ever heard of. I know Byakuya-bo’s is a lush garden, because of course it is.”

_ Of course it is. _ “Do you ever hear or see anything strange in yours?”

“From time to time. The state of one’s Inner World is very much connected to their mental state at any given time. When Ichigo is sad, rain falls in his World.” Yoruichi rests a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You’ve been going through a lot. Unless you find yourself under attack in your Inner World by something that shouldn’t be there, it’s just a reflection. I don’t know much about Quincy, I’m sorry. I’ll ask Kisuke if you want me to.”

“If he has any answers, it’d be helpful.” Uryu bows his head quickly in thanks and Yoruichi smiles, giving his hair a fond ruffle before he returns to Zangetsu’s side to see his progress up close, startled to see all of the arrows lodged in the edge of the platform.

Zangetsu smiles up at him. “I was determined not to miss a second time.”

“You’re amazing,” Uryu breathes, unable to help himself as he stares at the arrows, watching each one slowly fizzle away. “I knew you would be able to pick it up quickly because he does, and you’re a part of him, but this… I couldn’t imagine it!”

“You don’t have any other Quincy to spend your time with, do you?” Zangetsu asks, and Uryu finds himself startled at the question, not sure what to think of it. Had he made it obvious, somehow? “My apologies for asking such a personal question, but you seemed oddly excited about this prospect. Most who train do so simply because of pragmatism.”

Uryu scrapes his shoe through the dirt. “Ah. Perhaps… Perhaps that is why. And you are correct. Other than my father, there are no other Quincy in my life.”

“Perhaps reinforcing the training of Ichigo’s Quincy abilities plays into that,” Zangetsu muses, and Uryu tries to hide the way his face heats up at the suggestion. Is it truly based in something so petty? That would not be truly unlike him; the prospect of Ichigo being even a little bit more like him is suitable, after all, even if it is slightly selfish.

Nevertheless, he gives himself a shake and summons his own bow, raising it and fixing his eyes on a farther platform. His arrow sticks firmly at the edge of it. “Let’s focus on increasing the distance you can shoot. See if you can land an arrow near mine. I’ll assist.”

“May I ask you one last question?” Zangetsu asks him even as he adjusts the angle of his bow, pivoting his body to aim for the new platform. “Do you think that you and Shiro could ever get along with one another, or is that a lost cause we should not think of?”

Uryu stares at the shape of his shoulders, hand slipping beneath his arm, tilting it just a little before he looses the arrow. “I was admittedly colder to him than I should have been. I would like to try again, should he ever come back into Kurosaki’s body. Perhaps the two of us could get along. We should all be on the same side if we can afford to be.”

He sees the corner of Zangetsu’s mouth twitch before he nods once, loosing an arrow that lands not far below Uryu’s own. “That’s good. I try to keep an eye on him. Wouldn’t want him to have soured his relationship with everyone right away.”

“Tell him… I’m sorry for being cruel. Ah, here.” Uryu steps close to him again, chest to Zangetsu’s back, helping him adjust the angle of his bow. “Now, try again.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

The interior of the back of the shop is quiet as Uryu sits Zangetsu down in a chair, retrieving an ice pack and a bottle of water for him. His shoulder and hand are sore, something Uryu expected to happen, remembering how rough it was on him the first time he started training to be a Quincy. It affected his schoolwork at first until he learned to work through the pain, dealing with the forming calluses on his fingers, the muscles in his shoulder strengthening over time so that wielding the bow felt like moving a part of his own body, nothing more and nothing less. It was a part of him.

But it was not a part of Zangetsu yet, and Uryu is not his father. There is no reason to be cruel about it, not when cruelty rarely turns over truly favorable results. After all, Uryu became much more adept in his abilities when he had people to fight with and for.

“Here.” He picks at the collar of Zangetsu’s shirt, pulling it down his shoulder so he can slide the ice pack beneath it against bare skin. “This will help. I’d have Inoue-san heal it, but it’s detrimental. The pain builds up the strength in the muscle instead.”

“Understandable.” Zangetsu winces, rolling his shoulder, and Uryu holds the ice pack in place while he uncaps the water to take a sip. “You’re a very good teacher, Uryu.”

Uryu smiles softly, bowing his head a touch. “Thank you. I’m happier to know that.”

Hovering over Zangetsu feels normal, makes him remember when he, Chad, and Ichigo were training their abilities together and he kept worrying over the injuries they received. Going to Orihime was not always an option; even training their powers in the very beginning was a concern because it meant they were constantly hurting themselves and each other, so he just did his best for the two of them, snatching supplies from his father.

“Am I wrong in assuming that you and Ichigo were close?” Zangetsu asks, and Uryu jumps

“Oh! Oh, we… We were close, yes.”  _ Why would you ask such a thing, I wonder? _ “Kurosaki is one of my best friends in the world. There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do to help him if I could. Not that I mind spending time with you. I just wish it didn’t have to be in such a circumstance that none of us know if he’s okay or not. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

The smile on Zangetsu’s lips is fond as he shakes his head, wincing slightly when he disturbs his sore shoulder. “No, that’s fine. It’s good to know people care about him.”

“You care about him, too, don’t you?” Uryu asks, and his voice comes out more subdued now.

“Ichigo is the only thing I have ever wanted to protect. No intention to be offensive, but.” Zangetsu shakes his head, flexing his fingers, the joints popping. “Protecting Ichigo was the only goal that Shiro and I ever agreed about. We had different ways of doing so, but in the end, it was the one goal we shared. It is the one thing I admire about him.”

Uryu frowns down at his feet, remembering how harsh he’d been to Shiro while he was around.  _ You just wanted to keep Kurosaki safe, too. I should have known that. _ “I see. Well, you’ve done an excellent job. He’s so strong that no one could ever defeat him.”

“Battle is one thing. Evidently, we did not keep him safe enough.” Zangetsu shakes his head and to this, Uryu has nothing to say. What could he say in a situation like this one?

He remembers how hard Chad worked to make Shiro safe and comfortable and finds himself sinking down next to Zangetsu, wrapping an arm around his waist, careful of his shoulder, and rests his chin on his uninjured shoulder. “None of us did a good enough job,” he says, noting that Zangetsu does not seem particularly upset at the close contact. Perhaps he and the Hollow are closer than he lets on. “But we are going to do the best we can now to help him, and when we find him, we’ll all be here to support him.”

Zangetsu presses a hand to Uryu’s arm, just holding onto him, not trying to push him away, and Uryu lets them sit in silence for a moment. Dealing with emotions is not necessarily something he considers himself to be adept at, and certainly there are people in their group who are much better at it, but he is the one here, and he feels like it  _ should _ be him this time. Because he wants to find Ichigo no matter what it makes, too.

When he finally feels slightly better and Zangetsu’s body has lost some of the tension wound into the muscles, he leans away from him, giving his back a gentle rub. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve done a great job. Perfection just takes practice.”

“I know you’re right. Thank you, Uryu.” Zangetsu shifts the ice pack. “Ichigo is lucky to have friends who care so much. We’ll all show him that when we find him.”

Uryu texts Chad to ask him where he is and agrees to meet up with him after he gets enough water in Zangetsu to satisfy himself for the time being. They need to eat and luckily Chad is not far away from a nearby restaurant, a location they can easily catch a bus to reach and be there in about twenty minutes. Uryu all but shoves a coat on Zangetsu, determined to keep Ichigo’s body safe and warm from the winter chill.

They sit together on the bus, Zangetsu’s head resting against the window. “I remember Ichigo being tired, but I don’t remember it being quite as draining as this.”

“You’re learning how to have a normal human body for the first time. It can’t be easy.”  _ And it was probably harder for Shiro, who would be used to a Hollow’s strength… Damn it. _ “We’re going to eat, and then you’ll stay in Ichigo’s apartment tonight, I believe. I… I want you to keep this between the two of us, but I want to try something with you.”

Cornflower eyes meet his own once more, and Uryu wonders what the man looks like in his natural form. Certainly, that eye color alone is breathtaking. “What do you want to try?”

“I have a theory about the Inner World of a Quincy, and Kurosaki’s should fall into that same line of thought because he is a Quincy by birth.” Uryu takes a slow, deep breath, telling himself to speak slowly and clearly. This theory is entirely his own, and whether this works or not… He has to know. Perhaps his dream had  _ meant _ something. “I believe that because all Quincy are connected through Yhwach, that all Quincy can reach each other in our Inner Worlds if we try. It’s just a theory, so I could be wrong, but…”

Zangetsu finishes the sentence for him. “But you want to see if it’s true. You want to find out if you can reach Ichigo’s Inner World from your own. What makes you think that?”

Uryu drums his fingers on his thigh.  _ How honest should I be at this moment? _ “I can hear voices in my Inner World. Faint, and on the wind. But they belong to people, and I feel this in my soul. That if I followed them and tried to focus on their reiatsu, I could find them. Certainly it couldn’t hurt to try? I can’t think of a drawback to this decision.”

“We could try,” Zangetsu murmurs. “You want to try that tonight, I presume? To see if we can reach one another through the distance? Have you heard Ichigo’s voice there?”

“I felt something. It might be a chance.” Uryu shrugs a shoulder; what else can he do? “If someone sealed him away in his own Inner World, they might have endeavored to ensure that you could not find him, knowing his zanpakuto would be there. But I’m not a zanpakuto, and I’m not a shinigami. I’m thinking they might not have been able to bet on me.”

“An interesting idea.” Zangetsu sits up. “I will humor you, and we will try that this evening. If it works, perhaps we will make headway on finding Ichigo together. If not, well, it’s still an interesting development. It could assist in training in the future.”

Uryu nods, taking Zangetsu’s hand in his own and squeezing it gently. “Thank you. But as I said, keep it just between the two of us. I’m not eager to end up under the scrutiny of the Gotei Thirteen if they decide this is interesting and decide to experiment on it.”

“You mean Kurotsuchi Mayuri,” Zangetsu says, and Uryu winces and nods. “I will keep it between the two of us. As long as it does not harm Ichigo, I have no reason to say a word about it to anyone. You should know that if you find me, you will find Shiro as well.”

Sighing softly, Uryu nods. “I’m aware of that. But that’s okay. I can apologize to his face for how I treated him. And for letting him hide in my closet instead of helping him.”

“I’m glad that you’re going to make nice with him. It would benefit all of us to be on the same terms.” Zangetsu squeezes his hand and Uryu realizes they’re still just. Holding hands. “Ichigo needs as many friends as he can get, of course.”

“Of course,” Uryu echoes. “And Shiro is a part of him, like you, so if I accept that Ichigo is my friend, then I must accept that entails the two of you as well. I should have been more mature about it, but I’m going to do better this time. For all of us.”

The bus pulls up to the restaurant and Uryu only remembers to let go of Zangetsu’s hand when he stands up and discovers their fingers still linked together so that Zangetsu rises with him, their shoulders brushing together. Uryu bites down hard on his lip and lets go of his hand, trying to make it seem as natural as possible to do so.

Somehow, he feels more like an idiot for having to put effort into it.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

They sit at a booth, Chad and Uryu sharing one side of it while Zangetsu gets the other side to himself, and Uryu just takes a moment to study him— And by extension, study Ichigo. His hair longer than it has ever been before, soft and shaggy around the edges and probably due to Ichigo just not thinking to go out and get it cut. It looks like he might have tried to cut it himself, jagged in some places, but it suits him, somehow. Annoyingly, everything always seems to suit Ichigo no matter what the feature happens to be.

He is thinner than he should be, Uryu knows that. His skin still has a sallow undertone, though even a few days of rest and food have started to fix that up. Malnutrition? It’s likely. Uryu makes a note to just  _ bring _ Ichigo food if he doesn’t want to make his own.

No matter what it takes, they’re going to take care of Ichigo this time around.

Zangetsu studies the menu for a minute before glancing up, as if sensing Uryu’s eyes are on him. Instead of saying something about being blatantly stared at, he looks back down at the menu and Uryu exhales slowly and tells himself to just calm the fuck down.

Chad’s hand is warm and firm in the small of his back. “How did training practice go?”

“It went amazing. Zangetsu’s a natural with a bow.” Which makes sense, considering he’s the personification of Quincy power, but Ichigo is raw. He’s never trained in it. “I think Ichigo’s going to value that skill if something happens to his long sword.”

“That’s good. I’m relieved.” Chad’s hand creeps around so that it’s his arm around Uryu’s waist, and Uryu feels a little thrill at the touch, leaning into it. “Are you sure you don’t mind us going back to Ichigo’s apartment tonight? We can stay over again.”

Uryu shakes his head, smiling up at Chad.  _ How did I get so lucky? _ “No, it’s quite all right. I want Zangetsu to have a chance to get used to the space in case he’s around for a while. And if Shiro comes back, it’ll be good if he wakes up in a place he recognizes.”

“Very thoughtful.” Chad kisses him on the forehead, and Uryu feels warm all over.

They order their food and sip their drinks while they wait, Uryu happy to have hot tea to restore the feeling in his fingers; the bus could have been warmer, and he ignores the fact one of his hands is warmer than the other. He has to focus tonight. He needs to center himself when he goes home, which means getting his apartment cleaned up so he has nothing else to focus on but his own Inner World. If he can reach Ichigo’s, perhaps that means he can find him. Or explain what the hell he’d found in his own.

_ Not just mine, _ he reminds himself, taking another sip of his tea.

When his cell phone chimes in his pocket, he draws it out to see a message from Ururu, asking him to call Urahara when he gets a chance. He excuses himself from the table and walks toward the door, stepping just outside and leaning his back against the bricks before he dials and raises the phone to his ear.  _ Honestly, old man, learn to use a phone. _

_ “Hello, Uryu-kun.” _ Urahara clears his throat.  _ “Sorry if I’ve interrupted anything, but you called back awfully fast. Yoruichi-san said you asked about a Quincy’s Inner World?” _

Uryu breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes. Is there anything you happen to know about them?”

For a moment, the other end of the line is silent. Then:  _ “What did you see in yours?” _

The question draws a sigh from his lips and he gazes up at the sky, pale grey; it’s supposed to snow again tonight, and he isn’t looking forward to the frost, the ice piling up beneath the snow. Hiding in plain sight, dangerous to everyone. “I only hear things, Urahara-san. Voices on the wind. Do you think my theory may be off, or—”

_ “No. I assume you mean to test your theory with the help of Zangetsu.” _ Urahara is quiet for a moment.  _ “I wish you the best of luck. If you do find Ichigo, let me know, obviously. I won’t tell anyone. I suspect there must be a reason you’re asking us not to tell.” _

Uryu frowns at the words. “Of course there is. If Kurotsuchi Mayuri heard about this—”

_ “It’s not that. You saw something, didn’t you? Something you don’t want the rest of us to know about until you understand the nature of it for yourself.” _ Urahara interrupts him without pause and Uryu feels something in his stomach drop, his grip tightening on his phone; how much has Urahara been able to guess? How much does he know?  _ “Is it dangerous? If it’s something that might hurt Ichigo, then you know I can’t—” _

This time, Uryu cuts him off. “No, it’s not dangerous. I know that much to be a true fact. This will let me test that safely. If it could hurt Kurosaki, you know I wouldn’t do it.”

Silence again.  _ “I’m going to trust you because I think you want what’s best for him.” _

“I’ve wanted what’s best for him long before Soul Society ever had the  _ intention _ of being kind to him in any way, thank you very much.” The implication is not a kind one and Uryu does not appreciate it. He’d put himself in harm’s way plenty of times for Ichigo’s sake, and he would keep doing it. “Think better of me. I’m more trustworthy than most of the captains. No one could want to protect him more than his true closest friends.”

Urahara laughs.  _ “I see you’re still not overly fond of shinigami, though I’m not surprised.” _

“You could never know how much.” Uryu stares down at his feet and knows he can’t say another word or he’s going to upset himself and confess at the same time.

For the time being, he needs to keep the truth to himself. The reality of it is far too ugly, and he has no intention of giving that information to someone who could likely use it against him. While he knows Urahara is no longer allied closely with Soul Society because of how they treated him, he’s  _ still _ a shinigami and he’s stood in protection of Soul Society enough times to make Uryu suspicious of trusting him with necessary information.

_ “I suppose that’s true. You’ve seen ugly things for someone so young. I forget that sometimes.” _ Urahara hums softly through the line.  _ “Let me know if you find anything. I’ll keep this between us just for now. But if it becomes dangerous, I can no longer do that.” _

Uryu feels his stomach sour. “If it becomes dangerous, I’ll be the first one to make sure it no longer is. Trust me in at least that much, and know I’m at least that strong.”

_ “All right.” _ Urahara is quiet for a moment, and then his voice grows less serious.  _ “Well, have a good evening then! Sorry I couldn’t be of any more help to you.” _

“It’s fine. I understand. Thank you for your help.” And Uryu hangs up the phone and tilts his head back, letting out a long, frustrated scream only in his head.

Once he’s certain he can control himself, he returns to the restaurant happy to see their food has made it to the table and brushes off Chad’s concern with a reassurance that he’d just needed Urahara to answer a question and they’d been discussing it, nothing of any particular importance. That satisfies Chad and Uryu feels bad for lying to him, but he has to lie at the moment. The fact this situation feels far too much like his time spent in the Wandereich is upsetting, but what more can he do? Getting the wrong people involved might ensure that he will live with this in silence for the rest of his life.

Or maybe the Gotei Thirteen will hunt him down and finish him off for what he knows.

When they finish eating and split up for the day, Chad leans down to kiss him goodbye, hesitating as he runs his fingers through Uryu’s hair. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“I’m sure.” Uryu leans up on his toes to kiss him again, unable to help himself. “I’ve stayed alone a thousand times before, and last night was good. You can stay over again soon.”

“I’ll take you up on that before I go back to university at least twice.” Chad kisses him a third time and Uryu feels giddy, playing with the ends of Chad’s hair. “Have a good night and message me if anything happens or comes up. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Uryu nods. “Of course. Make sure Zangetsu gets enough sleep this evening.”

The bus ride home gives Uryu entirely too much time to think and he stares out of the window at the steadily-darkening sky, hands folded in his lap, taking slow and deep breaths to center his soul and give him the headspace he needs to enter his Inner World tonight. All he has to do is true to meet up with Zangetsu and Shiro, and he’s certain that it should be easy to find Ichigo’s impossible reiatsu if he just looks hard for him.

_ I have to try, _ he reminds himself.  _ I promised Haschwalth I could try at least that much. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all of you probably: isn't haschwalth dead?  
> me: so it's complicated,


	9. Chapter 9

When Uryu is next aware of the world around him, there is white marble and pale grey skies and the ever-present gentle wind. It takes him a moment to center himself here, fingers drifting out to touch one of the structures around him, a low wall that feels like the railing along a pathway, though the ground beneath his feet does not have any path worn into it. He takes a deep breath and focuses on the world around him, on the thrum of Kurosaki Ichigo’s reiatsu as he stretches his own out to search for it. Last night, he’d followed a strange reiatsu that was just there. Looking for one might be different.

He used his reiatsu the night the two of them spent together, had felt Ichigo’s blend so neatly with his own that it felt for one moment seamless, and he understood for just a flicker of a moment what it felt like to be that strong. Ichigo put off more reishi than any other being Uryu had ever encountered except for perhaps Yhwach, though he was uncertain about the raw data. He never had time to properly crunch those numbers.

For a long moment, there is nothing. Uryu rests his hand on top of the wall and starts walking, keeping his feet beneath him and trying to focus on the world around him. He can hear faint voices, of course, because he has always been able to do that. If those voices lead to more Quincy— No, not now. Uryu will think about that later, but right now, he wants to find Ichigo’s Inner World and seek him out if he can. Bridge the gaps between them and then search for him from the inside out with a gift that none of the Visored would ever have had access to. They can only look for a shinigami; Uryu can do more.

He notices a familiar thrum of reiatsu in the air and cocks his head toward it, his eyes falling shut as he picks up the familiar soft, deep voice.  _ Please hold on, your Majesty. _

_ I’m trying, _ Uryu thinks, turning back toward the way he’d chosen to walk, setting his feet one in front of the other.  _ I’m trying, Haschwalth. Do what you have to do, but I’m trying. _

Considering he only spends time here to center himself or in his dreams, Uryu has never explored this world in any great depth or detail. If it has an end, he would have no idea. He never knew it could branch out from itself and he wonders, minutely, if perhaps that was only an illusion meant to trick himself. If his own guilt was weighing him down… Was that not the true reason for this experiment, as well? If he could close the distance between his world and Ichigo’s, then he would know it was real. That he could do this.

And that meant… Everything was real. Uryu was not sure if he was ready for that to be true, but he surged onward just the same, keeping a hand on top of the wall.

The first sign he has of a change in the air is the sound of rain pelting against glass.

Uryu pauses and tilts his head, trying to discern if he truly hears that or not. He closes his eyes to focus on the sound and nods to himself; that is rain. With that buoying his spirits, he follows the sound, and then the wall beneath his hand thrums so hard it vibrates.

_ Kurosaki Ichigo. I knew I would be able to find your reiatsu if I looked for it. _

It would have horrified a lesser man to learn the way in which Uryu had learned to recognize this pattern, but he has no time for such self-reflection right now. The past is the past and he made the decisions that led him to today with no intention of going back to change them. This is the least he can do to prove that he was always going to be useful to Ichigo, at the least, that a young and relatively green Quincy could be useful.

Not young, not so much anymore. Certainly not innocent. Could he be considered green when he was once chosen to be a member of the Wandenreich’s Sternritter?

Last night, it was faint and unnoticeable at first. This time, not so much. Uryu can feel the slight mist of rain on his skin and looks up at the sky, noticing how the gradient has gone darker here, deepening in color, showing a stormy sky above his head. Water drips down onto his glasses and he sighs softly, plucking them off of his nose to wipe them clean before he starts walking once more. The rain picks up in intensity, soaking through to his skin. Strange to know that he is warm and dry still in his bedroom.

When the ground beneath him gives way to glass and concrete, Uryu removes the seals on his own reiatsu, letting it unravel around his body and into the air. It takes only moments for the two beings of Ichigo’s Inner World to find him, flash stepping into existence mere feet away from him. Dark cloak swirling in the harsh air, white lips pulled back into a sneer.

Ichigo’s Quincy, Zangetsu, and his Hollow, Shiro, stand before him.

“So you found your way after all,” Zangetsu says, and Uryu feels a thrill of horror in his gut when he takes in the sight of the man. Does Ichigo know? He must. “Ah, I see you’ve picked up on the truth. I will not hide it from you, Ishida Uryu.”

Shiro tilts his head, golden eyes flashing. “He figured out you were Yhwach pretty fast. But then, he spent a while kissing that fucker’s ass, so I guess he’s more familiar with him than King was. What are you doing here, Quincy bastard?  _ How _ did you get here?”

Uryu tilts his head toward Zangetsu. “You didn’t tell him I was coming, did you?”

“I saw no need to. He would learn the truth when you appeared.” When Shiro takes a step forward, Zangetsu grips his shoulder. “Do not. This is Ichigo’s Inner World.”

“I know that. Which just makes me wonder  _ how _ he got here even more,” Shiro snaps.

Taking a deep breath, Uryu spreads his hands in front of him, palms up to show he is unarmed. Of course, he wouldn't have to be. There is so much reishi in Ichigo’s Inner World that he could easily defend himself if he had to. “Kurosaki is a Quincy, like me. I recently learned that it was possible for Quincies to reach each other like this.”

“All of you are connected through Yhwach’s power. Through something like mine.” Zangetsu looks thoughtfully, running a hand through the heavy weight of his own dark hair, and it. It really is  _ unfortunate _ how alike they look, really. “It seems that it worked after all.”

Shiro pulls a face. “I never did like Quincies. I knew you were all fucking weird.”

“I owe you an apology.” Uryu takes a step toward him and Shiro narrows his eyes at him, hand wrapping around the hilt of the sword at his back. Zangetsu’s long sword, he realizes. “I was cruel to you needlessly when I should have tried harder even if you hated me. You’re a part of Kurosaki, and you help protect him. Hollow or not, you are not my enemy.”

In answer, Shiro licks his teeth. “I could be your enemy if you wanted me to be, Quincy.”

“I don’t.” Uryu steps closer to him, and this time, Shiro simply remains in place. “I want to find Ichigo, and I want to know exactly what happened to him so we can fight it next time. So it can never be a weakness against him again. Do you agree with that?”

“Of course I do. King is… He’s  _ him. _ ” Shiro waves a hand, as if that says it all. It does.

Uryu nods, and when he’s close enough, he offers his hand. “I want to call a truce, if that is all you will accept from me. So we can find him and bring him back. The Visored could sense his reiatsu, but they couldn’t do anything else. They can’t track it the way I can.”

“That much is true,” Zangetsu murmurs. “They did not find his Inner World. We let them into it. Perhaps there is some merit to what you will be able to discover here.”

“Fine.” Shiro grips Uryu roughly by the wrist, hauling him far too close until their chests bump into one another. At this distance, he has to tilt his chin up slightly to make up for the difference between their heights, and Uryu feels a panicky skitter in his chest at the fact that Shiro could kill him just like this. “For King, I’ll call a truce. You’re right, y’know. You were a dick. But I guess… Fuck it, I wasn’t much better, I guess.”

_ Progress? _ Uryu wonders, smiling faintly as he nods once. “We both made mistakes. But for Kurosaki, let’s agree to set those aside and see what we can discover here.”

“All right.” Shiro lets him go, giving his hair a rough ruffle that almost has his knees sliding out from beneath him. How  _ strong _ is he, naturally? “Let’s look for King, then.”

This world of concrete and glass makes Uryu wonder, though he keeps most of those thoughts to himself as he walks along the sides of the buildings, trying to ignore the vertigo he feels here. He knows the shinigami are symbols of stagnation, which is why it took so  _ long _ for them to change their ways. Quincy are the symbol of progress and logic; it hurts him to admit that his grandfather might ever have been wrong, but the power of the Sternritter proved that continuous growth had given them a lot of strength.

On foot, he is going to get nowhere. But he suddenly has an idea.

“I want to try something,” he calls out, and both of Ichigo’s spirit beings glance toward him. “Don’t panic. It’s going to look frightening, but it  _ will not _ hurt him in any way.”

At least, it shouldn’t. He can’t imagine how something like this could be harmful.

Only his iron control over his will and his body has allowed him to last this long in a world so rich and vibrant with reishi, but now, Uryu reaches for the glove tucked into his pocket, drawing it over his hand and concentrating on it. He wonders what his grandfather, what  _ Ryuken, _ would say if they could see this now. There is no one here but the essence of Kurosaki Ichigo, and maybe that is for the best in the long run.

Ishida Uryu closes his eyes and activates his Quincy: Vollstandig.

He knows, intellectually, that the power of a Vollstandig is massive enough that most of the Quincy did not even  _ need _ theirs, but the additional power made them far more difficult to defeat. Aside from that, he knows its weaknesses, that it takes a lot of stamina even though it can be used without draining the Quincy of all of their power. It was why he was so insistent on calming himself and centering himself before bed, making sure he ate more than enough food to compensate for training today.

In the reflection of the window beneath his feet, Uryu can see himself. The Zeichen above his head, the wide pale blue wings spreading from his back, feathery and beautiful and glowing even in the dimness of this world. He crouches and throws himself into the air, and the wind sweeps beneath the wings, lifting him off of the buildings and allowing him to slip into the sky with ease. He hadn’t known flying could feel  _ this _ incredible.

A delighted laugh leaves his throat and he throws himself higher into the sky because he can, the raindrops rolling off of his wings, dripping from the edges of the feathers. From this high up he can see everything, the wide and lonely expanse of Ichigo’s Inner World.

“What the  _ fuck _ is that?” he hears Shiro demand, but Zangetsu only rests a hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. He thinks he can see the edge of a smile on Zangetsu’s face.

The reishi in the air is expansive and Uryu feels stronger because of it. But this is not time for playing, so as soon as he thinks he has a knack for this, he beats his wings against the wind and flies off. It feels impossible to miss Ichigo’s reiatsu now, the way it beats through this world like a pulse. And Uryu makes a mental note to tell Haschwalth that he was right, that Ichigo gave off so much reishi without trying.

_ Did you know you were this powerful, Kurosaki? _ He wonders, dipping low to the edge of a building, skimming his fingers over the smooth glass.  _ I wonder if you even understand. I wonder if you’ve ever thought about trying to access your own Vollstandig and all of the power that could give you if you would just learn to use it. _

He’s running on borrowed time probably, but Uryu is powerful. He still has all of the power of his Schrift at his beck and call if he needs it, and he has Ichigo’s reishi in the air to fuel him. His stamina has grown in leaps and bounds over the years. He has  _ time. _

And he might need every last minute of it because Ichigo’s Inner World is  _ massive. _

Uryu flies higher in an effort to get a better look at the world itself, the massive stretch of buildings that go on for as long as the eye can see. Frowning, he spreads his wings wider and concentrates, trying to find the source of Ichigo’s reiatsu. It seems to come from every edge of this world but he  _ knows _ better, and he knows he can sense it better in this form than without it. Uryu knows what his full strength is capable of now.

_ Where are you? _ Uryu stretches a hand out, lets his own reiatsu drift from his skin, pushing it outward.  _ Kurosaki, it’s me. Where have you been locked up? You should be able to hear me. I won’t leave until I find you. I swore I wouldn’t. _

Even if he falls unconscious in this world, Uryu will push himself to the last limit he has.

_ A Quincy exists to protect humans, _ he thinks, hurtling himself through the air, feeling the reiatsu around him, trying to find its source. Trying to discover where Ichigo might be hiding, where he might be concealed.  _ You may be part Hollow, you may be a shinigami, and you may be a Quincy. I don’t think  _ you _ know what you are, Kurosaki. But you are human, and you fall beneath my protection, and I will do anything to find you. _

“Ishida!” Shiro calls out to him, and Uryu stops and realizes that is the first time Shiro has used his name. The Hollow is beneath him, looking up at him. “What is that thing?”

“What thing?” Uryu asks him, annoyance picking at his nerves once more.

Shiro huffs at him. “Those wings. Since when did a Quincy have a Resurreccion?”

“This is  _ not _ that,” Uryu tells him, biting back a snap as he flies down, letting Shiro get a closer look at his reishi wings, his halo. “This is a Quincy: Vollstandig. It is our most ultimate technique, the strongest power we can use. An Arrancar’s Resurreccion is an ability that allows them to reclaim the strength of their pure Hollow power.”

“Guess that’s true.” Without asking, Shiro stretches out a hand, fingers brushing over Uryu’s feathers, eyebrows shooting up. “They’re solid. I thought I’d be able to put my hand right through it, but I can’t. Why are you even using that thing here? You wanna fight?”

Uryu shakes his head and with one fierce beat of his wings is skyborn once again. “No. I’m using it to see farther. I want to see if I can visually see where he is.”

“Good luck, then,” Shiro says, and takes off, flash stepping across the buildings.

Flying is addictive. Uryu can understand how this became a skill that the Sternritter worked hard to achieve even though he knows the limits of its usage. He skims the sides of the buildings until he reaches the ground, and when he raises his head once more, the buildings are jutting up into the sky once more.  _ What the hell? _ He supposes that makes a fair amount of sense but still finds himself annoyed, pressing his palm against the ground to throw himself back up into the air, soaring for the rooftops.

He touches down on the edge of a skyscraper and peers around, then throws himself toward the distance. The glass is cracked in so many places and some buildings are crumbling at the edges; concrete flakes beneath his foot as he pushes himself up again.

He feels a pulse of reiatsu and swerves mid-air, changing course and heading for it.

_ Is that you, Kurosaki? _ He flies between buildings, always cognizant of the rain falling overhead, though his skin is numb now, too cold to pick up the chill.  _ It must be you. _

The sight of the building stills Uryu for a moment before he beats his wings more fiercely, gasping when the torrent of rain only increases the closer he gets, but of course it makes sense. He touches down on the ground and calls back his Vollstandig, his wings folded neatly against his back before disappearing. The rush of power leaves him momentarily disoriented but he quickly regains his senses, looking up at the building once more.

The concrete is crumbling. Most of the windows are cracked and some are shattered. The front door appears as though clumsily replaced after being kicked down. When he stretches out a hand to touch it, it swings open as if it was waiting for him.

Though Uryu has only been to the apartment a handful of times in his life, he would know the building that Kurosaki Ichigo’s apartment resides in without having to think about it.

Slowly, he steps into the dark hall, frowning at the pitch black nature of it. He summons reishi into the shape of a blade so he can have some source of light, using it to guide his way through the entrance hall and to the staircase. Each step echoes in the quiet, though the sound is faint beneath the torrent of rain outside. He sources for some type of a seal here, sure he must have just missed it, but there is none. The thought stills him in his tracks just at the foot of the staircase, the reality of the situation settling on top of him.

They will deal with that later. For now, he has to find Ichigo and bring him back.

The reishi lights the way well enough for him to make his way up the steps without any other light source, and he discovers he desperately needed it when he sees pieces of the steps broken or missing entirely. The sight makes his stomach hurt; how much has Ichigo been suffering for his Inner World to have suffered such intense decay? Seeing how much worse it is where Uryu is certain he must be confirms that he must be nearby, surely. The rest of his Inner World may be suffering, but not as much as this one space.

There are no seals on the first landing, and Uryu nods once to himself as he continues climbing. Though there are so many dangers, he can still make his way up if he is slow and methodical and careful. At least he’s able to make it. How long as he been here?

If he wakes up soon, will he disappear from this world? He hopes not. He is  _ so close. _

The final landing leading to Ichigo’s apartment is where he stops, looking down at the stairwell, at the dark and shadowy space that makes hairs rise on the back of his neck before he turns toward the hall. Only one door is shut, the others gaping open, kicked or cut down, Uryu is not sure which with some of them. But all of them are black holes in the walls and it makes him shiver as he walks toward the last door at the end of the hall.

A window is placed against the wall next to the door, and Uryu gazes over the rainy, lonely expanse of Ichigo’s Inner World before he stretches out a hand to touch the door.

Even without his Vollstandig activated, Uryu would be able to sense a seal in place, would notice the reiatsu that holds it there. He would be able to sense the reishi, and if he activated his Vollstandig, he could likely absorb it and remove the seal entirely. Though he should have done this with Shinji and Rose, something stopped him from offering to help them. Maybe some part of him had suspected this all along, after all.

_ Some part of you? _ He asks himself.  _ You had always wondered, I think, in the back of your head. If this wasn’t what it looked like. _

Uryu thinks about knocking on the door, but he doubts he could make himself heard over the rain and the last thing he wants to do is draw attention to himself. Instead, he wraps his hand around the doorknob, choking back a half-laugh, half-sob when he finds the door is unlocked.  _ You wanted us to find you all this time, didn’t you, Kurosaki? _

Kurosaki Ichigo was not sealed away in his Inner World after all. He made it possible to find him. He was  _ hiding, _ but he was here by his own volition. Like Uryu thought.

The living room is dark but Uryu knows there is nothing here for him, walking through it as quietly as he can as he approaches the bedroom door. That is shut too, but again, it opens without him having to do anything else more than twisting the knob. He doesn’t even check for seals this time. He knows there is no longer a reason to.

Kurosaki Ichigo is lying in bed, the bright shock of his orange hair resting on his pillow, his back to the door. The sight of him is so absurdly relieving that Uryu’s knees fall out from under him, his hands hitting the carpet as he wheezes and tries to ignore the sting behind his eyes.  _ It’s only been a few days, _ he thinks, but at the same time he half-drags, half-crawls toward the bed, desperate to get closer to his best friend. Ichigo never doubted him. Ichigo never looked at him like an enemy even when that was all he could think of Ichigo as. Ichigo always stood tall and brave in the face of the greatest dangers that came toward them, protected all of them,  _ strove _ to protect all of them.

And they could have lost him. That keeps ricocheting through Uryu’s head. They could have lost him to nothing more than his own pain and misery. No Aizen. No Yhwach. Just the pain eating Ichigo from the inside out like a ravenous beast set to keep everything for itself.

When his hands hit the edge of the mattress, Ichigo stirs. He lifts his head slowly, pushing himself up into a half-sitting position, his back still to Uryu. When Uryu reaches for him, Ichigo’s entire body twitches, his shoulder trembling with the motion.

“I found you,” Uryu says, and his voice is wet and trembling. “I  _ found _ you.”

“Ishida.” Ichigo’s voice is low, and he thinks it’s meant to sound humorous, the way Ichigo says his name. “I didn’t… You weren’t supposed to be able to find me. How did you—”

“With Vollstandig.” When Ichigo’s head tilts slightly, Uryu drags himself up onto the bed, almost afraid to touch him more than the one hand pressed against his back. “I’ve only just recently learned it, but there’s so much reishi in your Inner World that I knew I could do it. I… I knew I could. And you can sense reiatsu better when you’re in Vollstandig.”

Ichigo gives his head a small shake. “I know the others… Shinji, and Rose, I felt… How did  _ you _ get here? I felt like… Like I could hear you coming, or feel it, or…”

“Because we’re both Quincies. You and I. Maybe you don’t like that sometimes, but it’s still you. It’s… I could because you’re you.” What else is he supposed to say right now?

When Ichigo says nothing, Uryu chances scooting closer to him, letting his hand wander around Ichigo’s side to rest on his chest, pulling him back into Uryu. And Ichigo lets him, doesn’t fight him, lets Uryu press his face into Ichigo’s hair while he tries to fight the sting of tears once more. It hurts, presses his glasses harder into his nose but he doesn’t mind so much because Ichigo is  _ here, _ and he’s alive, and maybe there are questions, but they can answer those later, surely. Because that matters less at this exact moment.

When Ichigo finally speaks, his voice is so tired. “I should have known. Because you’re you, and that means that you’ll always rise to the challenge. I… Not even Zangetsu and Shiro could find me. I don’t— I didn’t want them to, I…”

“You’ve suffered. I know.” Uryu remembers what Chad told him; no food in the cabinets, unkempt, unwashed. The bedroom a mess. “You’ve been suffering, you still are. I— I should have been there for you. We  _ all _ should have been there for you, and we weren’t. We—”

“I didn’t want you to be.” Ichigo’s voice is soft and wet and Uryu squeezes his eyes shut against the sound of it. “I was supposed to be able to protect you. All of you. I had to beat Aizen. I had to beat Ginjou. I had to beat Yhwach. To save Rukia, Inoue, Karakura Town, Soul Society, I… It was supposed to be  _ me _ who did it. And I can’t even s-save myself.”

Uryu presses his forehead between Ichigo’s shoulder blades, butting it there, not sure what else to say, how to make this right. How could he ever hope to just  _ fix _ depression? It can destroy a person; it was no wonder he isolated himself. Maybe he thought that helping them was impossible when he was already falling apart at the seams. He pushed them away because he wanted to fix himself, and in the end… He couldn’t. No one can.

“We can’t save you,” Uryu agrees. “You need to see a doctor. Not Ryuken, but… A therapist. It’s okay, Kurosaki. It’s… It’s depression, probably? I know such a thing can be hard to deal with, I understand that. But there are ways to help you. And we would have helped you find them. I don’t… I don’t want you to think you have to leave because of something like this.”

“I was so scared.” Ichigo’s voice quivers, and Uryu’s heart drops. “I couldn’t even. I couldn’t even get up some days. I just laid in bed. Didn’t eat. Let my phone die so I didn’t get calls or texts. I just, I pushed away Chad. I pushed away everyone because I couldn’t take. Couldn’t take care of me, so how could I do  _ anything _ if I couldn’t even fucking  _ shower? _ ”

Slowly, Uryu wraps his other arm around Ichigo, hugging him as tightly as he dares. “I know it’s scary. I don’t blame you. It’s not your fault. It’s… It’s just brain chemistry, coupled with the fact… Ichigo, you were a  _ child soldier. _ We all were. Your mother, she died. I know you think fighting helped you feel useful, but it was never your fault. You were little kid. And you never got any treatment for it, it’s just. It’s just gotten worse.”

When Ichigo breaks down crying, Uryu hides his own tears in Ichigo’s back. The torrent of rain outside says it all; Ichigo has had better days, and happier days, and has been able to smile, but how much of his pain has been stamped down so he could fight? How many times did he tell himself he could move on from Masaki’s death if only because he would never be that helpless again?  _ You were a child and Yhwach stole her power and you were never meant to suffer so much, and fighting is not a coping mechanism. You need help. You’ve always needed help and I wish I had these words when you needed them most. _

“I can’t do it.” Ichigo sniffles and turns to face him finally, and Uryu looks at him, at his tear-filled brown eyes with the grey bags beneath them, the paleness of his skin, the tear tracks and knowing some of those are old and dried. “Not alone. I— I tried. I hurt so many people. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Uryu, I never wanted to—”

“I know.” Uryu stops him, stretching out a hand, brushing some of those tears away. “We’ll get you help. All of us, together. Your friends. Not Soul Society. Not the shinigami. We’ll do it here. I’ll even ask Ryuken for a reference because he’d write you one. He owes you.”

Despite the pain in his eyes, Ichigo manages a smile. It’s a tiny one, barely visible, but it’s a start. Uryu breathes a sigh of relief and holds out his arms, a silent offer, a reminder:  _ You don’t have to do this alone. _ And Ichigo leans into his embrace, hugs Uryu back and lays his head on his shoulder, and Uryu rests his head against Ichigo’s, rubbing a hand up and down his back. No words are needed right now, but the meaning is there.  _ We’re all here for you, Ichigo. All of us. And we’re all going to help you get better. _

_ And then I am going to pull down Soul Society to protect  _ you _ from now on. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i've been waiting to write this reveal for a while now. it was pretty much planned from the very beginning that ichigo was not sealed away in his inner world or missing from his body in any way: he was always right there, just out of sight, depressed to a point where he couldn't cope with it anymore. depression is a deathly serious thing and ichigo just happened to have a way to finally tune himself off from all of it, though it's not admittedly a healthy one at all.
> 
> i'm going to write another chapter to sum up what i've come to think of as an arc, i guess, of finding ichigo, getting him back, and what they do with the information. we move more into the quincy stuff in the next arc. and yes, if you picked up on what uryu heard haschwalth say as he went to look for ichigo, that includes yhwach.
> 
> again, i'm going to posit the warning that once we get to that arc, effectively, the story will get darker. it's going to discuss dark canon elements from the light novels such as: who the new soul king is and how that came to be true, the reality of what the soul king is, the royal guard, and the stagnation of soul society. as much as i love most of the shinigami (mayuri... fuck you), i have admittedly always hated the set-up of soul society where the rich nobles have their side of the world and people just suffer in rukongai and die there. it's pretty terrible, but learning that there's actually a way to go about fixing it kind of inspired me to start on this arc.
> 
> i believe the shinigami we know and love are better than that, and can do better than that. i truly do.
> 
> so dark topics ahead.
> 
> also i'm well aware uryu never got a vollstandig in canon and that's bullshit so i gave him one.


	10. Chapter 10

It takes all of the limited physical energy Uryu has at his disposal to get up when his alarm clock goes off, shower, and make himself a sandwich he can eat on the bus ride over to Ichigo’s apartment. Last night feels unreal now, feels like a hazy dream even though the fatigue weighing heavy in his limbs proves just how true it was, how much effort it had taken him to make that long trip to find his missing friend. In the end, he had been right; Haschwalth’s soft suggestion tugging at the corners of his brain to make him realize the truth he’d been trying to avoid while they tried to figure out what was wrong.

He texted Ichigo before he left his apartment to just stay in his room until Uryu showed up at the apartment, and they could explain together. The reply message had been short and sweet but it agreed to do just that, and thanked him for last night, and that made Uryu’s throat just stop working and his eyes sting for a good fifteen minutes.

When he finishes his sandwich, he tucks the paper towel he had it wrapped in into his coat pocket to throw away later and leans his head against the window, letting his body soften against the metal. It takes all of his physical strength to drag himself out of his seat at the appropriate stop, but he at least feels better than he did when he woke up. If that is a positive change or not is really up for debate, but he’s on his feet and moving.

Chad answers the door on the first knock, and his face is instantly concerned, his hands moving to help support Uryu’s weight as he helps him into the apartment. “What happened?” he asks, helping Uryu out of his coat. “Did the Espada show up last night? You look like you were in a fight. Do you want me to call Inoue—”

“No, I’m okay. I exhausted my reiatsu last night, that’s all.” He hopes the Espada were not specifically waiting for something like this. “I want you to remain calm for me, okay?”

_ You have to stay calm because I don’t know what it’s going to do to him if you don’t, and I can’t risk that. I absolutely cannot risk him withdrawing back into himself now. _

Frowning, Chad touches his face. “Uryu, tell me what’s wrong. I know something is.”

_ You really are too good for your own good, you know that?  _ “You’re right, but just… Stay calm for me, okay? You’ve always been a rock naturally, but now I’m asking you to be.”

“Of course.” Chad tries to lead him toward the couch but Uryu shakes him off gently and walks toward Ichigo’s bedroom instead. He has  _ wicked _ deja vu.

There is no rain today, though, only soft snow flurries that dotted his hair and melted on his way up the stairs. The apartment is clean and tidy and put-together, and he doesn’t just walk into the room. Instead, he raises a hand to knock on the cool wood.   


“Zangetsu hasn’t gotten up yet,” Chad says. “Is this a Quincy thing or something?”

Uryu considers, then nods. “It’s very much a Quincy thing, so I want you to defer to me so I can explain it to you. But first, I need you to be strong for both of us.”

He hears soft, hesitant footfalls on the other side of the door before it slowly swings inward, and at first all he sees is a soft mop of orange hair before, slowly, bright brown eyes peek at him from beneath overly long bangs. Ichigo’s eyes.  _ Ichigo. _

“Kurosaki,” he breathes, and it sounds like pure relief dripping from his lips. “You can’t have any idea how happy I am to see you right now. Would you like to come out?”

“Yeah.” And when Uryu holds a hand out to him, Ichigo takes it. His own hand is trembling slightly but he laces their fingers together and lets Uryu draw him out of the bedroom and into the living room where Chad stands rooted to the stop, his face contorted in disbelief, his mouth opening without any sound coming out of it.

Uryu pulls Ichigo up against his side, drops his hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders instead. “I found him,” he says simply, and Chad just. Keeps staring at them.

Slowly, Ichigo pushes his bangs back out of his eyes and lifts his head, his lips pulling back into a small, tight smile. “Sorry for worrying all of you, Chad,” he says, voice soft and raspy in his throat, and Uryu thinks he needs tea, and he definitely deserves  _ all _ of it.

“Ichigo.” Chad blinks a handful of times and then his lips spread into a wide smile, but he’s careful as he holds out a hand, takes a step forward. His fingers cradle Ichigo’s face gently, as if he’s not quite sure he’s a solid person all the way through. “You’re here.”

“Do we have tea here now?” Uryu asks, satisfied when Chad nods, pushing past them to the kitchen so he can brew some. They’re all going to need it before too long.

When he turns back around to see how the two of them are fairing, he freezes in place when he sees the two of them embracing, Chad enfolding Ichigo in his arms, using the height difference to fold around him protectively. He knew, in the back of his mind, that something could happen once these two were truly reunited with each other once more. Once it became clear that Ichigo’s depression was what pushed them apart and as he began to deal with it, their feelings for each other might return.

So be it. Uryu doesn’t mind. He will walk that bridge when he comes to it, no sooner and no later. It would be selfish to care so much about that when Ichigo’s mental health is so much more important to him, and he  _ needs _ to know how much they all love him right now.

He brews soothing tea and manages to get three mugs of it to the living room without spilling any of it. Ichigo is sitting on the couch while Chad sits in a chair and Uryu takes the end of the couch just between the two of them, doling out mugs. He looks at Ichigo very hard to make sure he picks up his mug and takes a sip, and the soft smile on his face when he meets Uryu’s eyes is more of a relief than anything ever has been.

_ Do you have any idea how afraid we were that we’d never see you again? _

“So,” Uryu says softly, folding his hands in his lap, “I want this to just be between the three of us right now because I trust you to listen and be fair about this, and I want as much fairness on our side when we tell the others. Ichigo, do you want to tell him what happened, or would you like me to? It’s personal, but I also know it might be hard.”

Ichigo nods, pulling his knees up against his chest, making himself look so small. “Would you mind telling him? I’m just… It is hard. You’re right. I’m sorry to ask, but—”

“I offered.” Uryu rests a hand on his shoulder, squeezes it gently. “I came to get you because I wanted to, and I’m helping because I want to help you. Okay? So don’t be sorry.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Ichigo sips his tea, and Uryu feels slightly better about this.

So he turns to Chad, moving toward the edge of the couch, angling his body to face him better. “Kurosaki was never sealed away in his Inner World. Szayelaporro was honest about that much, as he was never responsible for this. Kurosaki’s mental health had deteriorated to such a point that sealing himself away in his Inner World was the only way he could handle it. I found him last night. The Inner Worlds of the Quincy are connected as our power goes back to Yhwach, so I activated my Vollstandig in his Inner World so I could find his reiatsu. Please don’t be upset with him. He was suffering so much.”

Chad is quiet for a long moment, head falling back against the back of the chair. “Huh,” he murmurs. “I’m not mad, Ichigo. You know I could never be mad at you. I hadn’t realized it was so bad, and I just… I feel awful for not figuring it out faster. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I made it hard to figure out, so it’s not your fault.” Ichigo finishes his tea and Uryu gets him more without having to be asked because he just. He needs it right now, Uryu knows.

Something about it being just the three of them makes him remember when they banded together to save Inoue in Hueco Mundo, charging ahead without any care for what might happen to them because it was the right thing to do. The three of them, in their own way, have been a team. They’ve teamed up with each other, fought with each other. But a bond of bloodshed is not necessarily a strong one, something Uryu learned within the ranks of the Sternritter, so he can at least say he learned something valuable in his time there.

“We will tell the others, of course,” Uryu murmurs, resting a hand on one of Ichigo’s knees, “but I want to make sure you don’t get overwhelmed by any emotional reactions.”

This alone makes Ichigo look tired. “Thank you. I just… Thank you  _ so _ much. You have no idea how grateful I am for all the help you’re giving me. It means so much.”

“Sado helped a lot, too, you know,” Uryu says, smiling softly. “He babysat your Hollow while he was in control of your body and was trying to teach him to be human.”

Ichigo winces. “Yeah, Chad, I, uh. I’m sorry about the whole… Look, one time I beat Grimmjow when I was in Visored form in Urahara’s training world and he tried to pull the same shit on me, told me to just  _ take, _ that  _ I  _ was the real king, not Grimmjow, and—”

“It’s fine,” Chad says quickly, and Uryu tilts his head slightly.  _ What was that? _

“What happened?” he asks softly, looking between the two of them, not sure he gets it.

“Shiro’s, like, Hollows are weird. They’re very big on instinct and the way things  _ should _ be based on power, so when Chad kicked his ass, he kinda threw himself at him.” Ichigo rolls his eyes, like this is a common thing he has to deal with. Maybe it is. “You’re lucky you got outta his periphery in my Inner World probably, to be honest. I heard he touched your wings. Shouldn’t let him do that. Hell, you shoulda just stayed mean to him.”

Uryu runs a hand through his hair slowly, adjusts his glasses to sit properly on the bridge of his nose. “We can talk about that later,” he decides. “That’s not what’s important right now. What’s important is what you want to do about your mental health.”

“It’s kind of important,” Ichigo murmurs, and then his hand steals into Uryu’s, squeezing it gently. “I owe you both an apology. Chad, I… It’s my fault we broke up like that, I never wanted it to be like that. And Ishida— Rebounding was harsh especially when I just shoved you away after that. I’m sorry to both of you. You can’t imagine how sorry I am. Even if I did have my own issues to deal with, taking them out on you wasn’t the way to do it.”

_ You really said it all, _ Uryu thinks, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat. “Well,” he tentatively says, “I’m not upset with you.  _ I _ don’t regret it, at least. So…”

“It’s all right,” Chad agrees. “What matters now is that I understand what happened, we can get you help, and we can work on our friendship. Which are all important things.”

To this, Ichigo beams. “Hell yeah. I’m game for that. So, Ishida… What  _ can _ I do?”

“I believe you should speak to a medical professional, though not your father and not Ryuken because… You just shouldn’t.” Uryu tries to ignore how hot his face feels at talking about all of these personal topics. “But I will call Ryuken and ask him for a reference because I’m certain he has plenty. You go, you… Obviously you can’t say  _ I’m a shinigami _ but you can talk about how your mother passed away, you can like… Say you were fighting, but not with swords, maybe just fist fighting. Leave it vague, but talk about the… Like, not being able to eat, or get out of bed. Those are important things.”

Ichigo nods and then Uryu feels his head against his shoulder and smiles softly. “Thank you. For being willing to talk to Ryuken for me. You really are one of the best friends.”

“If it’s for you, then it’s worth it.” Uryu grins at him and Ichigo laughs and bumps their heads together before he sits up, going back to his tea.  _ Good. _

Chad pushes himself up from his chair. “I’m going to go make us all breakfast because it’s been a while since Ichigo himself has eaten, and you could use the food if you’re this worn out. I didn’t even realize you’d learned to go Vollstandig yet.”

“It’s not like I thought I could just go around  _ talking _ about it considering, well… The shinigami have a bad history with it now, and I just didn’t want to.” Uryu shrugs a shoulder. “But yes, I can do it. Kurosaki’s Inner World is so rich with reishi that it was easy.”

Ichigo’s voice is soft. “Shiro said you looked like an angel. Like, multiple wings, halo, longer hair, the works. You’re gonna have to show us one day and kick ass in battle like that.”

“When I get better control of it, I’ll definitely consider it. Oh, that reminds me. Zangetsu and I started working on your Quincy abilities,” Uryu says, and Ichigo nods; right, he probably already knows. “I want to go slow so that you get confident in them before you go forward, but with your power level, you should be able to reach Vollstandig as well. I… Know that it’s not ideal because Quincy destroy souls, but the value is good to have.”

Gently, Ichigo pats his shoulder. “Just because it can kill doesn’t mean I have to use it to kill, right? But it’s a good skill to have. And flying would be pretty awesome.”

Uryu feels something thud stupidly in his chest at the thought that Ichigo  _ wants _ to learn to use his Quincy power after all, thinking about how much fun they could have training together. “Imagine. If things had been different, we’d have grown up Quincy together.”

“You’re right,” Ichigo says. “Guess it’s time to make up for lost time.”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

By the time the sun is beginning to set in the distance, Uryu is exhausted. Inviting the necessary friends over to talk to them is difficult, and Abarai Renji has far too much energy for a normal man to harness. Grimmjow throws him sidelong looks every time he lets Ichigo hold his hand, the more difficult parts of the confession meaning he needs the support of the two people who know. Chad sits on his other side, a silent beacon of strength and Uryu is so grateful for his existence right now. He had been able to handle Shiro and took Zangetsu’s appearance well, so plenty can be said about him.

It’s when Uryu is in the kitchen, waiting for the tea to finish and staring at the dust on the toaster, that he’s aware of someone in the doorway. When he tilts his head, he finds himself pinned beneath the icy blue gaze of the panther Arrancar that Ichigo is so fond of, the one who still chases after him with the intent of defeating him one day.

“Shouldn’t you be in there challenging him to a fight?” Uryu asks the moment Grimmjow’s mouth opens, satisfied when it snaps shut. Pale blue brows rise in question. “You’re the one who wants to fight him. Which I’m just  _ sure _ is so healthy for his mental state—”

“Shut the fuck up.” Grimmjow sounds just as tired as Uryu feels. “Hey, I get it now, all right? Ichigo’s sick. I mean, I don’t get it. But I kinda do. Szayel was sick in the head, too.”

The mention of the rose-haired Espada has Uryu rounding on Grimmjow, ready to challenge the fucker  _ himself _ when Grimmjow is very suddenly in his personal space, making him aware of the difference in raw power between the two of them. With speed like that, Grimmjow could have had his claws in Uryu’s intestines right now, stringing them out like sausage and the visual makes him ill enough that he takes a step back, turning away from him.

“Sorry.” Grimmjow sits down at the table— Rather, he sits  _ on _ it because no Arrancar can be any definition of human normal, Uryu guesses. “Is he gonna be okay? If he gets help?”

“First of all, do not ever compare him to Szayelaporro. I couldn’t begin to tell you how insensitive that is, especially when I don’t even know if you know that  _ insensitive _ means. That bastard is cruel because he wants to be. Ichigo… His brain chemistry is off. It was damaged when his mother died and it’s just gotten worse from there. It’s different.” And besides, Uryu doubts anything is actually wrong with the scientist. Like Kurotsuchi, he likes to be cruel, likes to pick at people until he finds their weaknesses to break them.

Grimmjow tilts his head to the side, then shrugs a shoulder. “Fine, whatever, it’s not the same. Am I supposed to get this shit? You know I spent most of my life walking around on four feet, right? Hollows don’t give a shit about things like that.”

“I know. Which is why I’m trying to cut you some slack. But only some.” Uryu pours mugs, sets more tea to brew. The motions calm him, which is why he keeps taking control of this even though anyone can do it. “Second, yes, Kurosaki will get better if he has mental health assistance. It’s a recognized condition in the medical field, There are doctors who are trained to help people going through what he is. They can help him get better.”

This seems to satisfy Grimmjow, who promptly seizes several of the mugs and carries them away, leaving Uryu with his thoughts once more. Except that Grimmjow returns a few seconds later, resuming his space on the table, planting his feet in one of the chairs. Uryu bites back the snark to ask him how comfortable he is, assuming he must have a purpose in returning when Grimmjow asks him a question that makes him freeze in place.

“Who told you the Inner Worlds of your people are connected?” he asks softly.

Uryu swallows around a lump in his throat, reminding himself to just… He can tell Grimmjow anything, and the Arrancar will likely agree with it. “I heard voices, and I thought—”

“No, you didn’t. You aren’t that stupid, kid.” Grimmjow takes him by the elbow and Uryu looks at him, at the puzzled expression in those eyes. “You’re smart. I don’t get the extent of it because I don’t know you, but Ichigo was going on about how smart you were. So it’s gotta be true. You wouldn’t have walked into that shit if you didn’t know you were right.”

Wetting his lips, Uryu pours himself a cup of tea and sips it, shaking the hand off of him. “Why are you asking? The Sternritter are dead, and I don’t think any of the Quincy I heard are people we should seek out for help. They probably don’t even know—”

Grimmjow cuts him off, his voice hard. “Look, I’m not stupid. I know you had to have met up with someone, someone who would have told you that you could find Ichigo like that. It’s why you were so sure. It’s why you were willing to take the risk. And you knew he was in there. What made you start thinking that he’d locked himself away like that?”

Fear claws at the pit of his stomach and Uryu sits down at the table, straining his ears to figure out if anyone is listening in on the two of them. Everyone is likely still with Ichigo, comforting him, assuring him they will help him, trying to make him feel better about this situation that he never should have felt bad about at all. None of the shinigami were  _ stupid _ — except for, perhaps, Abarai Renji— but none of them had connected the dots, yet. Perhaps Urahara suspected, but he might have bought Uryu’s terrible excuse the first time on the phone, so he might not have to worry about covering that base.

If Ryuken heard about this from Isshin— and Uryu has  _ no idea _ why the two of them are still in contact, but he knows they are— then he will know. His father has always known.

“You don’t have to answer the question.” Grimmjow turns to look down at him, all haughty handsome features. “I already know you saw Yhwach. I’m not stupid, Quincy boy.”

_ How could you possibly know what you’re saying? _ “Yhwach is dead. I don’t know why—”

“No, he ain’t. I wish he was, ‘cause Halibel told me all sorts of awful fucking shit when she came home to Hueco Mundo.” Grimmjow puts a hand on top of his head, holding him in place, his grip too strong for Uryu to easily break— And not when all of the strength has run out of his limbs. “He kept her prisoner, but the Royal Guard wanted to talk to her after she was freed. Make sure she was fine, make sure he was gonna take care of Hueco Mundo, and what that even meant. She saw them make Yhwach into their new Soul King. I thought she’d come home happy he was dead. She came home  _ pitying _ him. Think about it.”

So he knew. The thought makes Uryu feel weak with fear and with relief all at once, knowing he isn’t the only one who knows the truth of the situation. When he’d discovered Haschwalth at the end of the reiatsu that  _ should _ have led to their former Majesty, not even being sure how such a thing could be true when Uryu saw the Quincy king struck down in front of him, he had been confused. Afraid. Wanted to draw a weapon and fight, but both of them had looked too weak and pitiful to fight. It lined up with what Haschwalth told him when he finally talked Uryu out of being so afraid of him in the first place.

Grimmjow’s hand drops from his head, fingers curling under his chin, tilting it up. “We can stop the Espada from fighting you now, then. If you get it, if you know… They don’t gotta keep you occupied anymore. I think we can tell you the truth of everything.”

“Ichigo can’t… He can’t know.” The last thing Ichigo needs right now is to understand just how dark and twisted and awful Soul Society is. If he knew, it would destroy him to know he’d let himself get into this condition for them. “I won’t let you tell him.”

“Not gonna. Hearing him talk let me know that this isn’t a mission for him. We gotta keep him from it for his own good. Even I get that,” Grimmjow says. “Let’s talk outside.”

The air is cold but Uryu puts on his coat and says he just wants to get some fresh air, and Grimmjow makes a big show out of wanting some of his own, not used to being cooped up in such a small space. He still takes the time to give Ichigo a rough hug, ruffling his hair as he goes, laughing when Ichigo swears and swats at him for it. When the sliding glass door is shut behind them, Grimmjow looks at him, all serious, and Uryu thinks that he never expected Grimmjow to look at him like a soldier wearied by a long war.

Maybe he should have expected it. After all, doesn’t that describe them both?

“We resurrected the Espada,” Grimmjow finally says, his voice coming out in a slow heave, “and that shit wasn’t easy. We needed Aizen’s help, and you can’t tell a  _ damn _ person about that or that Soutaichou of his is gonna slap even more restrictions on him. But the drunk bastard is kinda fond of him. Apparently his best friend or whatever died and he tells the government to fuck off plenty. So he’s been easing up on Aizen as long as he don’t bolt.”

Uryu nods slowly, thinking that this falls in line perfectly with his thoughts as to how the Espada could have been roaming the earth once more even though those they were fighting were long dead. “So he used the Hogyoku? I thought he lost mastery of it.”

“He did. And got it back.” Grimmjow smirks somewhat fondly. “Of course he did. It’s  _ him. _ ”

That is a not a discussion Uryu wants to be having right now, not with that look on Grimmjow’s face. “So he brought back the Espada using the Hogyoku and… But why? Why fight us? Were you trying to keep us distracted from whatever you were doing?”

Grimmjow runs a hand through his hair and he looks exhausted, and Uryu wonders if bearing the weight of this secret had started to break him down as well. Maybe more so, because it was the Espada battle that led to Ichigo escaping into the recesses of his own mind, the last added stress far too much for him to handle. Maybe Grimmjow blamed himself for that, and Uryu feels surprisingly bad for the Arrancar if this is true.

“Kept Soul Society busy too,” he finally says, and Uryu remembers that Soul Society had been happy to dispatch shinigami to help them in the last battle when their combined efforts were not enough. “Halibel’s been training them with her girls, and Nel and I help, and it’s enough to keep them ahead. If you can’t kill them, they can keep distracting you.”

“So the reason they fell back when Zangetsu showed up was because they didn’t know how to handle his appearance.” They had been taught to fight Ichigo, not another Quincy.

To this, Grimmjow smiles. “Amazing, isn’t it? How he gets in our way even when he ain’t around. But yeah. If you were busy and if Soul Society were looking away, we could make serious plans for breaking Aizen out, building an ouken, and getting to the Royal realm.”

Wait, what the fuck? “Were you going to try to overthrow the  _ Royal Guard? _ ”

“Yeah. What the fuck are we  _ supposed _ to do?” Grimmjow demands, rounding on him, hands spread in front of him. “I get that you all look at Hueco Mundo like a wasteland—”

“It’s a desert,” Uryu reminds him, and Grimmjow inhales sharply, closes his eyes.

It looks like he is mentally counting before he speaks again, and the edge in his voice tells Uryu not to interrupt him again. “The Royal Guard, the head of them, is the one who turned Yhwach into the Soul King. He’s one of the fathers of the shinigami and Halibel talked to him for a while and he pretty much blanket fucking stated he’s carrying their will to the present day. You ever noticed how the Gotei fucking Thirteen lives in stupid wealth while little dead kids are dying  _ again _ down in the Rukongai? Ever think about how fucking stupid it is that Central Forty-Six can do whatever they damn well  _ please? _ They extended Aizen’s sentence ‘cause he shit talked them to their faces. Is that mature enough for a fucking law body, Ishida? ‘Cause I know plenty of shinigami who hate them.”

So does Uryu; he still remembers asking Urahara on an odd day about how he’d been exiled from Soul Society, the story that came from it. How the Visoreds had most likely gotten their places back in the Gotei Thirteen because the old Central Forty-Six had nearly sentenced them all to death and would have executed each and every one of them for what Aizen had done to them even though Urahara was able to reserve it. None of them cared.

He presses his lips together. “Why do  _ you _ care? What does Halibel get from this? Is she going to be the goddess of the new world? Is  _ Aizen? _ After what he did—”

“Aizen killed a shitload of people to get where he is.” Grimmjow raises his eyebrows at him. “You know that. I know that. How many kids are living in filth down in Rukongai, huh? I been down there, man. It’s fucking worse than a desert at night.”

Uryu knows how bad it is. He remembers. “I don’t understand why you care. You don’t like shinigami, and that’s natural. They hunt you down and try to kill you. They still do.”

“Halibel saw what that fucker did to Yhwach and came back telling me to my face we shoulda let Aizen step all over us to get to the top.” Grimmjow leans closer, places a hand on his shoulder, and squeezes. “She’s the strongest woman I know. She wouldn’t let anyone treat her like shit. And she said she’d let him do it a thousand more times if it meant she didn’t see what she saw in that palace. She’s my queen now, and I trust her word.”

So that is how it is, then. “What do you need me to do? Soul Society  _ needs _ a king.”

“I know.” Grimmjow smirks at him. “If you wanna enforce a lifetime of living death and eternal suffering, you should get the honor of doing it yourself. So, will you help us?”

_ So that is your plan, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. _ “Tell me what I need to do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huzzah~ arc: save kurosaki ichigo is over and now we hit the big political intrigue stuff.
> 
> so basically what i learned about the light novels is as follows: ichibe made yhwach into the new soul king because he was never actually dead and the process is so horrifying that halibel walked away from it saying that she could understand aizen's motives in taking down soul society. given how powerful halibel is, i take it to mean that this is very fucking terrible and the process is really awful, and the reality of it is terrible as well.
> 
> most of what i stated here is canon as well. ichibe was one of the original fathers of soul society and he carries their vision to the current day, which lines up with mimihagi-sama choosing the shinigami because it symbolizes stagnation and the shinigami are very stagnant. this is also why rukongai is such a terrible place even though the seireiti is pretty rich in comparison. it doesn't have to be that way.
> 
> anyway, this is what the next arc is going to be about: trying to take down the royal guard and freeing yhwach from his place as the soul king because it's a terrible fate no one should have to suffer.


	11. Chapter 11

It takes little effort to find Jugram Haschwalth when he returns back to his own apartment, settling into a meditative state to let him know the reality of the situation so that he can guard himself against whatever Yhwach is fighting against right now. Though he had told Grimmjow only limited information, it was true that Uryu had reason to believe Ichigo had locked himself into the recesses of his own Inner World in order to escape the suffering he was living with on a daily basis. Only a baseless theory until he found the former Grandmaster of the Sternritter at the center of Yhwach’s Inner World.

According to Haschwalth, it was a Quincy technique first and foremost as shinigami would have much more difficulty hiding within their own Inner Worlds, as their zanpakuto are always nearby. Ichigo was always more powerful than he had any right to be.

“So the Queen of Hueco Mundo has graced us with her mercy and assistance.” Haschwalth’s voice is soft, thoughtful. It is at odds with his appearance, his tousled hair and the grey bags beneath his eyes. “That is good. This may come to an end sooner.”

Uryu says nothing, settled on a jutting piece of marble to rest his feet. Though he is certain they could achieve their end goal much faster with assistance, he worries that the involvement of Aizen and the Espada will inevitably draw Ichigo into the fray, and that is the last thing he wants to handle right now. What Ichigo needs is a chance to heal, and to have the system that only harmed him further dismantled while he does that.

“Ichigo must not become a part of this,” he says, trying to make his voice as stern as he can. After all, Haschwalth is at his mercy and his discretion, not his own.

Haschwalth bows his head, brushing a tangled lock of golden hair off of his brow before he returns his hand to where it rests on Yhwach’s shoulder. “Of course. You have spoke to me of his suffering. I have no desire to increase it no matter what you believe.”

“How is he?” Uryu asks, eyeing the man lying quiet in Haschwalth’s arms, always distant.

“I told you that as long as I remain here in this place, he is… Surviving. I cannot begin to imagine the suffering he is undergoing in order to support the Three Worlds.” The disgust in Haschwalth’s voice is clear, and Uryu is finally understanding the importance of it all.

As much as he hates to admit it out loud, he should have sided with them long enough for the Soul Palace to be destroyed so that the Royal Guard could not be resurrected from within its walls. He would not have guessed such a turn of events, and likely he would not have thought much about them until he saw the physical proof before his eyes that the place of Soul King is nothing more than an endless lifetime of pain. Yhwach was only sane enough to retreat from it, to hide here where Haschwalth had come to him.

“I still don’t understand how you can be here,” Uryu admits softly.

Haschwalth sighs softly, curls Yhwach’s dark hair around his fingers with a touch loving enough for Uryu to know that his thoughts of them in the past had been true, and were likely truer now. “Our souls are tethered together, Ishida. My physical body was only a vessel. As long as he lives, I will live. And in that way, I am able to keep him stabilized.”

“So he won’t fully lose his sanity. There is still time to turn this back, as Halibel and Aizen seem to want to do.”  _ And replace the Soul King, _ but Uryu doesn’t want to think about that.

“Yes, there is time. More time than you think. His Majesty is more mentally powerful than any man I have ever known in my life, and he continues to carry that title to this day.” Haschwalth bows his head, brushes a kiss over the top of Yhwach’s head.

Though Uryu still has plenty of questions, he knows not to strain Haschwalth too greatly, that the strain of remaining in this place is enough to keep him tired. Two souls tethered together for all of eternity so that even with the death of his physical body, Haschwalth lived on within Yhwach, and had been there the moment his eternal torment began to give him a foundation, a place to remain so that he would not lose himself to the shadows. It could not be easy, but Uryu had known Haschwalth as being powerful within his own right, his scales keeping everything tipped. Perhaps that was how he could keep Yhwach alive, balancing the light against the dark, balancing light against death.

How could Uryu know such things, though? It was all beyond him.

“Aizen knew this,” Haschwalth tells him, and Uryu hums because Grimmjow had told him as much. “There are other shinigami who know of the Soul King, and of what it takes to carry the burden. I want you to understand that they know this, moving forward.”

“And they choose to do nothing about it.” It seemed at odds with so much of what Uryu knows to be true about the shinigami, but the Quincies had always hated them. Maybe there were more reasons than he knew of for that, but now he knows another.

Bitterly, Haschwalth laughs. “Of course not. It upholds the world they want to remain in place. I can’t say I despise them too greatly for it. Progress is not their forte.”

“I know that.” Yhwach had told him as much, but Uryu had seen it for himself, how their way of life was so archaic. How it was at odds with what he knew to be true about the Quincy, and even  _ humanity _ which flickered out so quickly in comparison.

Haschwalth touches his knee. “I’m sorry you had to find out about this. I didn’t realize you were approaching us. Even then, there was nothing I could have done about it.”

To that, Uryu has no reply. Would he have rather not known? It would have made life perhaps a little easier, but it would have left him unaware of the fact that at any moment, the Royal Guard might abduct Ichigo and force him into the kind of empty existence that the Soul King must survive through. If Yhwach hadn’t… Uryu does not want to think about it, how their efforts in defeating him had almost led to a suffering that Ichigo would have withdrawn from, one they could not have found him within. If the depression itself was not already bad enough to survive through, this would have really brought it home.

“I’d rather have known,” Uryu tells him, patting him on the back of the hand, “because now I can do something about it. This can’t be allowed to go on. As long as the people I care about are in danger from the shinigami, it’s my duty as a Quincy to fight back against it.”

The expression on Haschwalth’s face is somewhere between proud and sad, and Uryu wishes he had something to give him that would soothe him. As of right now, all he has is the hope that the combined efforts of the Queen of Hueco Mundo and the number one enemy of Soul Society could do something to free Yhwach from his current hell.

“There is one thing,” Uryu says softly, and Haschwalth inclines his head, showing he is listening. “If we succeed in this venture, the Royal Guard will have to be strong enough to hold the worlds together. I am aware that his Majesty can share his power—”

“You would have him rip the power of the Soul King from himself to force onto another. I already understand.” Haschwalth smiles thinly, his fingers curling in Yhwach’s hair once more. “And I shall make sure he does just that. To ensure this plan works.”

So all they have to do is wait for the final pieces to fall together.

Uryu nods and stands, adjusting his glasses. “The Espada are going to attack us again. Grimmjow said they would stop as I know the truth, but it’s imperative they continue in their assaults to keep everyone distracted from the truth until it is time.”

“It is for the best. Their forces are far weaker now than they were, thanks to our influence, but…” Haschwalth shrugs up at him. “I could not tell you how many of the Sternritter survived or if any other Quincy would aid you. It was our combined might that made them weak. Unless you wanted to round up new Quincy—”

“Perhaps there is another way, though I am hesitant because of how poorly it all worked out last time.” Uryu presses his lips together. It had been on his mind since Grimmjow confirmed it was the power of the Hogyoku that resurrected the Espada. “If I were to revive the Sternritter, then perhaps we would have a better chance at fighting.”

To this, Haschwalth only sighs softly. “Be careful, Ishida. There was discontent in our ranks even when everything was going as planned. Are you ready to deal with that?”

“I want to talk to you again next time about who might be a good fit for coming back.” Uryu looks him in the eye, and Haschwalth’s face remains serene and composed. “I want to do whatever I can to make sure this works. Perhaps not all of the Sternritter can benefit us, but some of them can. Those who were the easiest to command, perhaps. Those who would still choose death by Yhwach’s hand if they could choose death at all.”

Haschwalth nods, and Uryu leaves him and Yhwach in peace as he returns to his own Inner World. Is it wrong to play with life and death in such a way? Uryu would have said yes once, but the rules have changed so much from what they used to be that he is no longer certain of what he feels or how he feels about it. Instead, what he wants to do is forge on, consider all of his options, and figure out which benefits him the most and which will only hinder his plans. Plenty of the Sternritter were rebellious, but not all of them.

It is hard to wrap his mind around the idea of turning to his enemies to be his allies, but what else can he do? Leaving things as they are is not who he is as a person.

There are voices on the wind and Uryu could follow them, but not tonight. Tonight, he wants to rest, recuperate from rescuing Ichigo, and turn to Urahara’s training world tomorrow to work on his Vollstandig. Testing its limitations and knowing when his stamina runs out so he can work on increasing it. He needs it to be an option in battle.

_ Kurosaki… _ And Ichigo has a doctor’s appointment soon to discuss his mental health, and Uryu imagines anti-depressants and small changes, working on eating better and cleaning up around his apartment. Uryu feels bad just thinking about how he should distance himself so that Ichigo picks up on nothing, that he never sees the bigger picture falling together so that he never has to worry about trying to stop it or which side is the good side.

It would probably kill him to learn that the shinigami who have guided him would have let him be used as a puppet to hold the worlds together because they would not stand up to the Royal Guard. Maybe they couldn’t. Uryu imagines none of them have ever really  _ tried _ but it always feels like they never  _ want _ to push until they actually have to. Until the situation calls for them to be better than their absolute best.

He needs to make a list of Sternritter and weigh pros and cons. That is an easy place to start.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

His apartment is quiet this morning and Uryu relishes that, enjoying his breakfast tea as he cleans up the few dishes he had dirtied to make himself something to eat. He feels better this morning, more focused on his goals and more certain of what steps to take next. Perfect his Vollstandig, find the other Sternritter, raise an army.

Though he had been undecided last night, everything seems much clearer to him in the light of day. No matter what limitations arise, it is their job to tear down every obstacle and continue onward with no true thought to failure. If they failed, they would die. There was no reason to plan for death as it would be unavoidable, too deep into enemy territory to pull themselves out. Too deep into battle to hope for the ability to run away.

He would rather die a warrior in battle than crawl back to this world with his tail between his legs and the hope the Royal Guard would spare him. No proud Quincy would ever live in fear of the shinigami, and he would not dishonor his grandfather’s memory by doing so.

The sound of a soft knock on the door has him turning away from the sink, pausing as he turns off the water and picks up a dish towel to dry his hands. Had he heard correctly? But who would be here this early? He listens again, jumping slightly at another knock.

Uryu peers through the peephole before opening the door. “Kurosaki, you shouldn’t be—”

“I needed to talk to you in private about this,” Ichigo interrupts him, brushing past him into the apartment with the air of someone in a hurry, someone pushing himself to speak as quickly as he can as if he might be afraid of losing his nerve. Uryu can relate to that.

“Did you sleep last night?” Uryu asks him, checking the hallway before shutting and locking his front door once more. “Have you eaten this morning? Do you need any—”

Ichigo cuts him off with a small exasperated sound in the back of his throat. “Yes, I slept and I ate. I knew on the bus ride over those were the first questions you were—”

“Can you blame me?” Uryu interrupts this time, and Ichigo snaps his mouth shut, looking slightly uncomfortable as he shifts from foot to foot.  _ Ease up on him, he’s still fragile. _ “You know how I worry about people, and it’s so early. Was the bus ride okay?”

He softens his voice and that seems to perk Ichigo back up, bright brown eyes meeting his own, and there are still dark circles beneath them, but they can work on that together. “Yeah, it was good. It was quiet. I’m sorry if I worried you. I’m… I’m trying.”

“I know.” Uryu feels strange, just standing here. So he holds his arms out.

Initially, Ichigo only stares at him before moving forward into his arms, letting Uryu hold him, cheek resting against the curve of his shoulder. This is fine. If Ichigo needs physical contact and reassurance, Uryu can provide that for him. He needs to. Though he knows no amount of hugs is going to solve Ichigo’s problems for him, he needs to know all of his friends love and care about him. And this is easy because after finding him in the state he did, Uryu kind of doesn’t ever want to let him go ever again. What if he goes back there?

“I wanted to thank you,” Ichigo says, and Uryu huffs and is about tell him he doesn’t have to when Ichigo interrupts him. “I know. You were happy to do it. Or don’t thank you. Or whatever. But you have no idea how relieved I was when you found me.”

Uryu smiles softly, hides it against Ichigo’s shoulder. “Well, I couldn’t just leave you there. It was a chance trick. I’m going to hone it into a real ability.”

“Shiro and Ossan said you were really impressive in your Vollstandig. You’re going to have to show me one day when everything calms down.” Ichigo noses his shoulder in return, and Uryu can feel hands pressing up against his back, fingers nudging at the line of his spine.

He huffs softly. “Absolutely. You took me seriously then, when I said to let us handle it?”

“I don’t like the idea of not being able to help everyone fight, but you all made it very clear to me that helping you all by getting better was what you wanted.” Ichigo’s breath is warm on the side of his neck; he sounds almost sleepy, Uryu thinks. Up too early, not enough sleep, a long bus ride? Hard to say. Maybe it’s just the depression. “So I’m going to get better so that none of you ever have to worry about me ever again. I promise.”

Gently, Uryu shakes his head. “I’m always going to worry about you because that’s who I am. And thank you. We’re all stronger now. We can handle a few buffed Espada.”

“Yeah. I know you can. Besides, they’ve never seen a Quincy Vollstandig, so you’ve got an ace up your sleeve.” Ichigo’s fingers trace a path along his spine. “Shiro said you had angel wings. Big fluffy ones that looked like they had feathers. I feel bad for saying that one guy’s Vollstandig was creepy now because it sounds like yours is beautiful.”

“Of course it is. It’s mine. And don’t worry about it. Quilge’s was… Something.”  _ Horrifying, _ Uryu wants to correct himself, but he can’t quite do that at this moment. Perhaps later.

Ichigo laughs softly. “Yeah, the others tell you about it, then? Since you weren’t there.”

“Yes.” Uryu realizes that the two of them are still holding onto each other and feels that worry and concern gnaw at his gut again. “Kurosaki, are you really okay?”

“Yeah. This isn’t really what I came here for. I just… Yeah.” Ichigo finally lets him go, takes a step back, and Uryu drops his arms as well. “Can I sit down for this?”

Uryu insists on brewing him a cup of tea to chase away the chill and they sit down on the couch together. Unbidden, he remembers the last time Ichigo came to his apartment, shortly after his break-up with Chad, needing someone to talk to about the debacle and, in the end, someone to help him forget for even one night. He had been surprised that Ichigo just threw it out there so casually in conversation, but he has to remind himself that Ichigo is a much different person than he is, and to him, it had been casual. Even something he felt bad about doing, and. And how is Uryu supposed to feel about that?

_ Do you really regret it, Kurosaki? _ He can’t help but wonder to himself.  _ Because I don’t. _

Ichigo sips the tea when Uryu gives him a stern look, rolling his eyes so hard Uryu can’t help but smile. “I left a note for Chad so he wouldn’t worry when he woke up and I wasn’t there. And I told him to just text me when he woke up so he could make sure.”

“That was good of you, thinking of him.” Uryu pats him on the knee and Ichigo smiles.

“Thanks.” He leans back into the couch, folds his knees in against his chest and sighs softly, head falling back against the couch. “Ah, I feel so bad about all of this. Guilty, you know, for just disappearing like that. I just felt like I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

Uryu takes his hand and Ichigo lets him, and his eyes soften as he looks to Uryu. “I’m not upset with you. I might not understand it fully, but what I want more than anything is for you to be happy. Everything was too much for you. It’s an understandable reaction.”

“Thank you.” Ichigo squeezes his hand. “For everything. For being so kind and sensible. For finding me, especially. I… I made it so Shiro and Ossan couldn’t. Since they’re a part of me, it wasn’t so hard. I could even guard against the shinigami. Just… Just not you.”

This time, Uryu squeezes Ichigo’s hand. “Because I’m a Quincy. Your Quincy power is very strong, but you haven’t trained it very much. It makes sense it would be a hole in your defenses. And I’m glad it was. I was so relieved when I found you.”

“No regrets?” Ichigo laughs softly. “My Inner World probably didn’t make much of an impression on you, I’m sorry about that. It’s kind of a mess right now.”

“I could see how something like it could be beautiful. Maybe you can invite me back when the sun shines there once more.” And Uryu swears he sees something glitter in Ichigo’s eyes for just a moment before he laughs and nods, turning back to his tea.

Cup empty, Ichigo turns his entire body toward Ichigo, dropping his cheek against the back of the couch. “I didn’t come here to talk about any of that, though. I came here to talk to you about… I don’t know. It’s hard to say, I guess. I’ve never been good with words.”

“You always cut straight to the point in my memory,” Uryu says. “Why don’t you try that?”

Ichigo hums softly, eyes cast down, lashes lowered. “Remember that night I came here? And I was upset and then we ended up in your bedroom? I really wanted to apologize.”

“You really don’t have to. I know it was a rebound. I didn’t mind then. I don’t now.” How could he ever? Even if it was just to take Ichigo’s mind off of things, it was  _ Ichigo. _

“That’s not what I meant. Not. Not the way you think it. I mean, it was a rebound, and I feel bad about that. I think you deserve better than me doing something like that to you. You deserve someone who really means it.” Ichigo shifts nervously next to him and Uryu frowns, stretching out a hand to squeeze his shoulder.  _ Stay calm for me. _ “That was, uh, you pretty much admitted it was your first time and I felt like I blew it.”

_ Oh, you really went and said it, didn’t you? _ “It’s… It’s not a big deal. I’m not someone who thinks the first time has to be romantic or perfect or anything. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t enjoy it. I mean… You certainly knew what you were doing.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty experienced.” Ichigo grins at him and then shifts closer again, fingers curling around the wrist of the hand Uryu still has on his shoulder. “But I just, I… It was wrong. To just, to make you think. Ishida, I’m really trying to.”

“Slow down,” Uryu coaxes him, squeezing his shoulder again. “Take a deep breath.”

As far back as he can remember, Uryu has been decent at getting his friends to calm down, and now seems to be no exception. A few whispered words are all Ichigo needs to slow himself down, take deep breaths to restore himself to a level of calm, the shoulder beneath Uryu’s hand relaxing. He shifts closer and Uryu is about to ask him what he’s doing when Ichigo just leans into him entirely, face pressed against his neck, arms slipping around him to pull him in close. He can feel the shape of Ichigo’s ribs through his sweater.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “for making you feel like a rebound fuck. I don’t regret the sex. I don’t regret the way you touched me or the way it made me feel. I’d let you do it again.”

The last sentence is murmured so softly that for just a moment, Uryu thinks he might have misheard him entirely. Such a thing seems inane considering Ichigo is half-sitting in his lap with his arms around him, but just the same… What if he had? The doubt is erased when Ichigo leans back to look at him, his gaze far too soft, lashes feathered over his eyes. There is nothing less than openly honest in his eyes.

“Kurosaki…” Any words he might have spoken die on his lips. What does he say to this?

“Uryu.” Ichigo licks his lips and Uryu’s mind threatens to shut down.  _ He called me by my first name. _ “It’s not fair, I know. And you don’t have to reciprocate. But I wanted to tell you. I feel like you’re owed knowing considering everything you did for me.”

When Uryu swallows, it hurts. “It’s probably just gratitude or something, not—”

“No. Believe me when I say that I always know when it comes to this. I had to get through the post breakup emotions and the depression and just… But there it was.” Ichigo laughs, the sound soft and hanging in the air between them. “I think I just remembered it when… There you were, impossibly, where no one else had been able to be. You walked into my Inner World like you owned the damn place and found me. You saved me.”

What is Uryu supposed to say to all of that? “You’ve saved me. I’m only paying you back.”

“Yhwach would have won if you weren’t there.” The man’s name rips Uryu’s guts out, leaving an empty and hollow void inside of him that he hopes to God doesn’t show on his face. “You did a hell of a lot for me. Even if you, y’know, almost killed me in the process.”

“But did you die?” Uryu asks him automatically, and Ichigo laughs, smothering the sound in the sleeve of his sweater. His eyes are glimmering with joy.

_ It feels so good to see you smiling like that again. _

The tension of the moment broken, Ichigo seems to speak a little easier. “I’ve always had a crush, like, who wouldn’t? But I just, I don’t know. It didn’t seem like you’d ever like me back. We snarked at each other all the time. We argued. Things were weird after the Sternritter and the war and just. So I ignored it.”

“You dated Sado instead.” That… Christ, this situation sucks. Uryu hates it.

Ichigo nods, and something about Chad’s name makes him back off just a little bit. “Yeah, I… And now you are. I don’t know why I came here to tell you this because I don’t wanna compete with him, that’d be so fucked up. I feel bad, though, because he deserved a good boyfriend. A better one. I mean, now he has one. Because he has you.”

“You’re still in love with him, I presume?” Uryu asks, and Ichigo laughs nervously and averts his eyes altogether, and fuck.  _ Fuck _ this situation. “You broke things off before they got bad with him, that much I’m aware of. Would you have stayed with him otherwise?”

“I’m not in a million years going to ask you to back off so I can take him back, that’s. No.” Ichigo shakes his head, but that answer… Is a proper answer, isn’t it?

_ It would be so much easier if the two of them were together again because then I’d have fewer people watching my actions. It’d be easier to work with the Sternritter. _

And, on the other end of that argument:  _ Damn it all, I want to be selfish. _

“So you have feelings for both of us,” Uryu says calmly. “Am I hearing you correctly?”

Ichigo is quiet before he gives his head a small nod, still refusing to meet Uryu’s eyes. “Yes. But I’m not going to do anything about that. I just wanted to be honest with you because I didn’t want you thinking I let you fuck me to forget about Chad. Or that you never meant anything to me. You deserve so much more than that, Uryu.”

“Okay.” Uryu’s brain is processing too slowly and too quickly when he abruptly stands.  _ Change of plans, I suppose. I can train this afternoon. _ “Get up. I’m taking you home.”

Soft brown eyes meet his own. “Nah. If you’re pissed at me, I can just—”

“Who said I was angry with you? I’m not. I’ve told you that so many times.” Uryu reaches for him, taking him by the hand, drawing him up to his feet, frowning critically at his sweater. “This isn’t thick enough for the winter. You’re borrowing one of my coats.”

“What? I can catch the bus back, I don’t—” But Uryu is dragging him to the coat rack. “Wait, what are we doing? Why are you coming with me? Did I say something?”

“You’ve said everything. This is me telling you that I’ve heard you.” He all but bullies Ichigo into the coat he chooses for him, zipping it up for him when Ichigo’s hands remain limp at his sides. “We’re going back to your apartment and we’re going to talk to Sado about this. Okay? It’s only fair that he knows, too. You can tell one more person, right?”

Ichigo’s lips twist at him. “I don’t know, that’s… That’s different after I—”

“You owe him an apology but he’ll understand and forgive you wholeheartedly and then we’ll. We’ll talk about things.” Uryu picks a scarf off of the rack and winds it around Ichigo’s neck, his hands moving and his mouth moving and his brain just. And his heart.  _ Fuck. _ “I know you already apologized but just, like, you did for me again. And—”

Softly, Ichigo interrupts him. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I? You’re being so frantic.”

“No.” Uryu smoothes the scarf out and then, against any common sense, frames Ichigo’s face with his hands, makes those beautiful brown eyes meet his own. “No, I. Ichigo, I heard you. I am showing you that I heard you. Trust me now like you did then. Trust me the same way you did when I found you. Can you do that?”

“Yes.” There’s no hesitation this time. “I trust you, Uryu.”

_ I hope you’ll still feel that way after what I’m going to do. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //throws hands up in the air// i don't know! //runs away//


	12. Chapter 12

It is far easier to rush out of an apartment with a plan in mind, fueled with adrenaline and certainty, than it is to sit on a bus and have to question every decision he made that landed them on this bus. Ichigo sits between him and the window, his head tilted to watch the frosted landscape as it passes, lids at half-mast proving just how tired he is. This is the exact opposite of what Uryu should be doing. He should be  _ protecting _ Ichigo but hadn’t this entire situation taught him that protecting people by pushing them away was never the way to go about things? There had to be a happy medium where he could keep his friends blind to his actions with the Sternritter while still being present with them.

There had to be. Besides, no one would buy his excuses after Ichigo’s momentary loss was so fresh in everyone’s mind. Uryu also does not have the strength to push him away; the crushing relief he felt when he found Ichigo in the first place far outweighs any emotion he has felt in the last few years, since the end of the war. How could he let Ichigo go?

More to the point, how could he push him away? Ichigo  _ needs _ him and Uryu wants to be there for him. Ichigo, who was still raw and hurting, scraped and bleeding and wounded down deep in his soul, had come to him to tell him the truth of his feelings even though it could not have been an easy task. Uryu appreciates just how far he went for him and now he wants to repay him in kind, show Ichigo that he did in fact hear him and has every intention of finding the middle ground that will make everyone involved happy.

What has he ever been better at, after all? Uryu has always been the voice of reason.

He holds Ichigo’s hand in his own and thinks he should have retrieved gloves for them, but the bus is warm enough and Ichigo’s hand is warmer against his bare skin, slender fingers twined with Uryu’s own, equal parts rough and soft.

When they reach the street Ichigo’s apartment building is on, Uryu helps him up out of the seat and off of the bus, and together they walk inside and up the long, winding staircase that leads to the top floor. He can see how tired all of this is making Ichigo, who has pushed himself into quite a bit of physical exercise considering he had only recently gotten control of his exhausted body back, but his determination makes Uryu’s heart race.

Has he always been this stupid over Kurosaki Ichigo? Has he always been this much of a fool for him that he can’t quite keep his thoughts and feelings to himself?

Chad is waiting for them when they step into the apartment but Uryu takes his time shrugging out of his coat and hanging it up, slipping off his shoes. Ichigo does the thing but he leaves the scarf on, nervous fingers toying with the soft strands at the end of it and Uryu’s heart has never beat so fast before. He takes Ichigo’s hand in his and leads him to where Chad just stands, staring at the two of him, expression as stoic as ever.

“Go ahead,” Uryu urges Ichigo, nudging him in the back. “Tell him what you told me.”

Ichigo is quiet for a moment before peering at him through the soft haze of his eyelashes, as if asking Uryu  _ anything but this. _ “Are you sure? I don’t… If things don’t—”

“I am telling you to tell him what you told me,” Uryu repeats, watching Ichigo drag his teeth over his lower lip, watching him worry the scarf more.  _ He’s going to unravel it if he doesn’t just come out with it. _ “Anything that happens after it… Happens. Now tell him.”

“But I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone when I’ve already done that so much,” Ichigo protests, eyes beseeching Uryu to understand, to figure out what he’s trying to say.

So Uryu does exactly that and more, reaching past those layers because Ichigo hiding how he feels has not worked well for any of them past, present, or future. “Your Hollow is a part of you. He is your zanpakuto, and you are his shinigami. You are your zanpakuto. Which means that he likely would not have ever been interested in Sado if you still weren’t.”

The words have Ichigo’s eyes blowing wide with shock, his lips parting so a small soundless gasp of a noise leaves his throat. Uryu nods to him once and turns to look at Chad, watching Chad’s eyes widen as well as the revelation sits between the two of them. Had it been easy to move on, thinking Ichigo didn’t care? Would it be easy to live knowing that he did? Uryu has no idea, no answer to these questions, because logic cannot touch the warmth of a heart in such a way. Logic could never explain the unpredictable swells of emotion.

“He still loves you,” he says, and Chad nods just once, swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobs. “He came over to my apartment and that was one of the things he told me.”

Chad exhales slowly and then looks at him. “Uryu, why are you telling me this?”

“That wasn’t all he told me when he came to my apartment.” Uryu looks to Ichigo again, squeezes his hand reassuringly. “You’re among friends,” he reminds him, voice gentle and beseeching, “so won’t you tell him? No one here would ever dream of hurting you.”

“I told you that I loved you,” Ichigo says, not to Chad but to Uryu, never tearing his gaze away, forcing Uryu to take the raw emotion of it for all it is worth.

Uryu nods, then looks up at Chad. “He came to my apartment to tell me that he loved both of us. I… And I brought him back here because this seems like something we should talk about. Perhaps we should sit down to talk about it, but we definitely should.”

“What is there to talk about?” Chad asks him, and Uryu winces slightly because he saw this coming, too, had weighed so many options on the bus ride. “Ichigo, I… What we had was important to me. It’s hard, even knowing what you went through, to just wave away all of the pain that put me through. I kept thinking about how it ruined our friendship.”

“I know. I’m not… I wasn’t the one who came here to try to talk about it,” Ichigo pleads, as if willing Chad to understand this is not his fault. To forgive him for what he’d done.

Uryu moves to stand behind him, resting his hands on Ichigo’s shoulders. “Sado,” he says, his voice low and careful, knowing how sensitive this topic is, “he knows very well what he did. We talked about it. I know it hurt you, too, but it hurt  _ both _ of you. He didn’t mean it to, but he didn’t benefit from hurting you. I think it hurt him to have to do it.”

Ichigo’s arms drop to his sides. Defeated. “Wouldn’t it hurt you, too?” he asks, and Uryu frowns at him. “To push away the first person you’d ever fallen in love with?”

“It would.” Uryu squeezes his shoulders. “Tell  _ him _ that, not me. You have to tell him.”

He watches as Ichigo turns his head back around and cannot begin to imagine how difficult this is for him, but this is for his own good and he needs to get it out, to scoop it all out of his chest soft and wet and vulnerable so he can move on instead of letting it fester and rot between his ribs. Uryu will help him, will hold the bones splayed wide so Ichigo can reach between them, but he cannot be expected to do all of it for him.

“I’m sorry.” Ichigo’s voice is low, soft, ragged and almost broken. “I didn’t want to hurt you like I did, but… I couldn’t hold it together and it would have hurt you more. I was lashing out at people. I was getting pissed at myself for my own shortcomings. I was restless, I wanted to fight something or I wanted to lie in bed all day. That wasn’t good for you. You’re not like that, Chad. You’re gentle. You deserved someone who could hold it together.”

“Deserved?” Chad takes a step forward, and his hand is so careful, so gentle, as it cups Ichigo’s jaw. “What about you? Didn’t you deserve someone who could help you shoulder that? I would have been there for you every step of the way if you asked me to be.”

Ichigo presses his face into the touch. “I didn’t want  _ anyone _ there. I just… It’s not logical the way I felt but I thought cutting everyone out would make it easier when I drowned in it. All the pain, all the despair. Not being able to get out of bed, not being able to eat. It would have been so much easier if no one was around to watch me crash.”

“That’s a very normal response for someone who was suffering like you were,” Uryu reassures him, not wanting him to feel like he failed. He hadn’t. Some things could not be so easily defeated in battle, after all. Not when they were just a part of you.

“I never wanted to let you go by choice. I never would have picked it. But you have a whole  _ life _ , Chad, I couldn’t let you fucking stagnate with me.” Ichigo sniffles and Uryu’s heart constricts at the sound, reminding himself they have to get through this. “Not with me.”

Chad urges Ichigo to look up at him once more and Uryu can feel how tired he is, pressing his chest up against Ichigo’s back, letting Ichigo take strength from him. “It wouldn’t have been stagnating if it was you. But I… I understand. It would have been hard to go back to university and focus if I’d known you were suffering. You always sacrifice for all of us.”

“Yeah.” Ichigo sniffles again and then laughs. “God, I’m sorry for being all emotional, this is so fucking stupid. It’s not like I came here to get between you and Uryu anyway, I know the two of you are… And that’s good. You two suit each other so well.”

Uryu’s hands flex on Ichigo’s shoulders. “Sado,” he says, his voice very careful, every piece carefully snapped into place. “Kiss him. I know you have to be wanting to.”

Silence hangs heavy in the air between them for a moment before Chad speaks. “What?”

“Didn’t he work so hard, coming all the way to my apartment and then back here, opening up like this?” Uryu asks. “You should kiss him because you both have to want it.”

“I just said I wasn’t going to get between—” Ichigo starts, voice frantic.

Uryu cuts him off immediately, pushing him toward Chad, taking the step with him so Ichigo has no room to back up. “I  _ told _ you,” he says, his voice straining for composure he no longer feels, “that I heard you. Loud and clear. I hear you right now.”

Ichigo twists his head back to look at him and for one breathless moment, there is nothing but Ichigo’s eyes on his, Ichigo’s lips parted around a protest that trips off of the tip of his tongue and leaves nothing but a breathless sigh between them. Uryu urges him a step closer and Ichigo lets him do it, never breaking eye contact with him, breath curling so close to Uryu’s face it risks fogging up his glasses at this rate.

“Kiss him,” he says, and Ichigo nods just slightly at him. “It’s been a while. Make it good.”

“Uryu.” Chad’s voice is low, urgent. “Are you sure about this?”

Uryu laughs softly and nods once, a quick and jerky yank of his head that makes his neck protest. “I’ve never been less sure in my life, but I think that’s okay.  _ Kiss him.” _

In the end, he ends up slipping his own hand under Ichigo’s chin, tilting his head back so that Chad can lean down and kiss him. He expects jealousy, some hot torrent of anger at what he himself had just set up, but none of that comes. His gut does curl hot but not for the reasons he expects right away and he huffs at himself, hiding his face away between Ichigo’s shoulder blades because he  _ really _ needs to be somewhat mature for this.

The soft noises Ichigo makes in the back of his throat make it hard to think about that, though. They make it hard to be about anything at all.

His hands slip down Ichigo’s arms, skipping down to his sides, following that down to his waist so he can embrace him from behind. He can feel all of the small movements of Ichigo’s body like this, the way he tilts his head to meet Chad’s lips more directly, the little shivers, the way his body relaxes on the end of a sigh. When the two of them finally part, it feels jarring, something in Uryu’s core shifting with it.

“Satisfied?” Ichigo asks him, the breathy quality of his voice catching Uryu off-guard.

“We’re a third of the way there,” he says, and then grips Ichigo by the shoulders, moving him firmly to the side so he can throw his arms around Chad’s neck and kiss him.

There is no thrill of self-satisfaction and he carefully notes this even as Chad wraps an arm around his waist to pull him closer. It’s less careful with him because they’ve already talked enough that this feels comfortable, feels right. Uryu had never in his life felt physically weak until he met Chad, someone whose strength is ever-present, not tied to his reiatsu or any reishi he could pull from the atmosphere. His power came from within.

The hand in the small of Uryu’s back splays there comfortably, pulling him closer while Chad deepens the kiss, and  _ oh, _ Uryu could get used to this. Even with all of the tension and the uncertainty surrounding everything, this makes perfect sense to him. He feels foolish for not really  _ doing _ anything with the feelings he had for Chad up until this trip even though the two of them had been dancing around the possibility for far too long.

Ichigo was there. And stepping in when Ichigo was there… Was wrong.

Uryu can be a touch selfish he knows and it shows now, his hands sliding up into Chad’s hair, winding the soft curls around his fingers as he deepens the kiss further. It would be so easy to get wrapped up in this and forget why he brought Ichigo back here in the first place, and it takes so much effort to step away from the kiss that it leaves him dizzy. When he turns to look at Ichigo properly, the look on his face is less than impressed.

“Don’t look like that.” His voice comes out harder than he intends for it to and Ichigo blinks at him before Uryu steps up to him, curls his fingers in the scarf and uses it to pull him closer. “You’re not stupid, Ichigo. Surely you can put together such simple pieces?”

“I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Ichigo says softly.

Softening, Uryu slips a hand around the back of Ichigo’s neck, bumping their foreheads together. “You have no idea what I’m prepared to get myself into for you. I mean, it’s for me, too, and for Sado, but also for you. Don’t be an obtuse idiot about this.”

“I want it.” Ichigo swallows hard, drops his head and laughs softly. “I just… It feels selfish because the two of you seemed perfectly happy just the way you were.”

“So?” Uryu slips his hand up into Ichigo’s hair, pulls it gently so that Ichigo looks at him. “We don’t have to be miserable to want to be with you. How would that even make sense? I am happy with Sado, but I could be happy with both of you. I  _ know _ I would be.”

_ How can you not understand what I’m trying to tell you? _

He feels Chad at his back, a hand settling against his stomach before Chad reaches out to touch Ichigo’s face. “Uryu raises a good point. I was already happy with you once. And now that I know what you’ve been dealing with, and now that you’re getting help…”

He leaves it open, letting Ichigo fill in the blanks for himself, and Uryu smiles hopefully.

“Maybe.” Ichigo looks between the two of them and Uryu can see the naked longing in his eyes. “But I… I can’t make promises that I won’t have more problems.”

“We’ll deal with them when they come, together. Not just us but all of us, all of our friends that you’re comfortable letting in on this.” Uryu pulls him closer by the scarf again. “Now let me kiss you. Because I know you want me to. It’s why you came to see me.”

“Is that bad?” Ichigo asks, and Uryu is already shaking his head. “Okay, I just… Okay.”

He uses the scarf to reel Ichigo in closer and then kisses him, remembering, against his will, the night Ichigo came to him to tell him what happened with Chad. He was weak at the edges, floundering and cracking and so close to falling apart that Uryu felt awful for not being able to do more for him then. He hadn’t realized how bad it was, truly just believed Ichigo and Chad must have had a fight serious enough to ruin their friendship. But now, he reels Ichigo in close and kisses him with all of that childish, teenage longing he’d experienced over the years, standing in his shadow and then at his side.

There was no one else in the world Uryu would have risked himself for in such a way.

They can figure out the details in a moment, but for now, he pours everything he can into the kiss. All of that frustrated longing and uncertainty, bitterness and anger, desperation and need. Ichigo gives as good as he gets and Uryu thinks that if he had been able to do this sooner, he would have done it when he found Ichigo alone in his Inner World.

“Wow.” Ichigo blinks at him a handful of times and then laughs, face flushed and warm, eyes shining. “Holy shit, I almost forgot it felt like that. I guess you didn’t.”

Uryu shakes his head. “I couldn’t if I wanted to. Now let’s sit down and talk about this. If anyone in this world can make something like this work, it’s the three of us. What’s figuring out how a relationship is going to work compared to saving all the worlds from collapse?”

The smile on his face is fake at those words. He hopes neither of them notice it.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

When Shiro had described his wings as those of an angel, Uryu thought it ridiculous. But now, at Urahara’s training ground, with his wings unfurled behind him and his bow in hand, he feels a little more confident in himself. Quincy wings never take the same size and shape for each person, changing to suit their reiatsu, their power. Giselle’s had been slender and bone-line while Quilge’s had been broad and all-encompassing. Uryu would rather forget As Nodt’s barbed wire wings and the form they were attached to.

He had never seen Haschwalth’s, had never seen Yhwach’s, though he knew they had them.

“If I hit you with this,” he warns Grimmjow, “it’s going to kill you. So make sure to dodge.”

“If that talkative motherfucker couldn’t kill me, I doubt that you can.” Grimmjow grins at him, face feral in his released state, all black claws and twitching ears and the plate of bone across his forehead. “Come at me with everything you have. I want it.”

Uryu refuses to train in this form against anyone else; the only ones strong enough to take his Vollstandig are likely the Arrancar that everyone believes are on their side, and he will not train with the shinigami. Not now. Not when he plans on using the powers he gleans from this to destroy everything the shinigami hold dear, the very foundation of their world, ripping it from its place beneath them and upending everything in the process.

Ironically, it was exactly what Yhwach had always wanted out of him.

_ I thought I was doing the right thing, _ he thinks, loosing the reishi arrow, watching Grimmjow’s eyes widen with surprise a moment before he leaps clear of it.  _ But now I know what the right thing to do is. I will protect you, Kurosaki Ichigo. _

Grimmjow is the most volatile of the three former Espada, and Uryu could practice with Halibel’s Fraccion too without anyone being the wiser about why he is training so fiercely. He would have preferred to practice against all of the former Espada, but he knew as well as anyone else that someone like Szayel or Nnoitra stepping into this room would be read as a threat and he would never be able to explain them as a friend.

Not without playing his entire hand at once, and Uryu has no desire to do that.

With his Vollstandig, he doesn’t have to worry about Grimmjow’s Sonido, soaring high up toward the roof of the room so he has a view of the space beneath him. He can sense reiatsu more easily now, can track Grimmjow by the bright burn of his power even if it takes him a moment to find him by sight, loosing another arrow in his direction.

Grimmjow barely dodges it, turns sharp blue eyes toward him and smiles. “Hey, I didn’t think you could be as fun to play with as Kurosaki.”

“The minute you get on your back and ask me to fuck you for beating you, I’m going to actually kill you,” Uryu tells him, and Grimmjow shrieks laughter as he runs.

Having wings is as much a benefit as it is a detriment until he learns how to use them, plummeting toward the ground to chase after Grimmjow perhaps faster than he should have, pulling out of that dive a little too sharply. But the reishi arrow sizzles through the edge of Grimmjow’s shirt, ripping a tear in the fabric and just barely grazing his skin, so it’s worth it. Especially when Grimmjow yelps and runs faster.

_ He’s holding back on me, _ Uryu thinks.  _ I’m going to make him regret that so fast. _

Grimmjow can leap up into the air and chase after him, but Uryu strikes him back down, a kick to his gut sending him slamming into a pillar of rock so hard it crunches beneath the weight, gravel skittering toward the ground. When Grimmjow springs at him from the hole, Uryu rolls in mid-air to avoid it, his shin catching Grimmjow in the ribs.

It  _ hurts _ but he grits his teeth through it, chasing after where he kicked him this time.

Black claws slash down the front of his shirt and he winces when he feels them break skin, blood staining the black t-shirt he has on today. He prefers white, the color of the Quincy, to black, the color of the shinigami. However, he challenged Grimmjow. He knew that meant blood. He wants to make sure that no one sees the stains.

Grimmjow is too close. Uryu looses another arrow and it sticks in his shoulder, drawing a startled howl from his lips.  _ I never said I was holding back on you. _

When Grimmjow claws at him, Uryu lets him. Lets the wounds build up slowly, ignoring the sting and the dirt in the blood and the way they slow his movements. Only when Grimmjow’s little smirk returns does he reach for the Schrift down deep in his soul, something he carries with him, that Yhwach had never taken from him.  _ The Antithesis. _

The smirk is gone in an instant as Grimmjow staggers, the full weight of the damage he’d caused Uryu inflicted on his own limbs. The blood seems to  _ rip _ from his skin, staining the parts of his clothing that are white. Without hesitation, Uryu throws himself forward, foot planted firmly in the center of Grimmjow’s chest, slamming him into the earth.

He keeps his weight balanced there as he kneels down, arrow focused on the space between Grimmjow’s eyes. “If you ever hold back on me again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“You’re serious about this, huh?” Grimmjow asks him, laughing when Uryu scowls down at him, adjusts his grip so that the arrow is that much closer to his skin. “I got it, Ishida, I won’t hold back next time. Where the fuck did you learn to fight like this?”

Uryu stares him down without a word. “I was in the Schutzstaffel, Grimmjow.”

“Like that fucker who came after me. I get it now.” Grimmjow holds his hands up and his Resurreccion breaks, returning him to his former state, though a bloodier version of that. “I’m done for the day. You got me. I gotta give it to you, I’m really impressed with you.”

Only when Uryu is certain that Grimmjow is, in fact, done does he stand, letting his arrows fade into nothingness, the wings dissolving from his back as he steps out of his Vollstandig. Instantly his knees buckle and he catches himself on his hands, panting harshly, the strain wracking every part of his body with an ache so deep it feels like it might touch his soul.  _ Too much, I pushed too much, _ he thinks, but what else is he supposed to do? What if Yhwach dies? What if his soul loses its power and Haschwalth fades away?

_ I don’t have the time to be this pitifully weak! _

A hand lands on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze just as a rough tongue laps up the side of his face. “Take a minute to breathe. You fought hard.”

“Not hard enough,” Uryu protests. “I have to be stronger than I am right now.”

Grimmjow laughs, and the sound makes Uryu grit his teeth before the Arrancar starts speaking. “Are you fucking insane? You’re strong as  _ hell. _ You didn’t grow up a Quincy in the Wandenreich, so why are you beating yourself up so much that you’re not like them?”

“They were the strongest Quincy I had ever known. So strong not even the shinigami could stand against them. They killed  _ thousands _ of shinigami.” And even Orihime’s healing had not been enough to restore the lost lives, leaving a sizeable dent in the population. “And they still lost. I have to be better. I have to push myself harder just to keep up.”

“They lost,” Grimmjow parrots. “So don’t be like them. Be different, not a better version.”

He shoves a water bottle in front of Uryu’s face and Uryu takes it, taking slow and careful sips as he moves to sit down on the hard earth. He watches Grimmjow drag his tongue over the wounds he can reach with his face, seemingly unbothered to have been slashed open in such a way. It makes it hard to believe he ever used to be their true enemy.

Uryu is grateful for him, for Nelliel and Halibel. He needs to train against all of them until he can handle them, until he can defeat them at full strength. The Royal Guard will not go down without a fight, after all, and he needs to be ready for them.

“I think you should come to Hueco Mundo,” Grimmjow finally says, and Uryu frowns at him. “Train against the other Espada. Especially Nnoitra. You want someone who won’t hold back? You’ll have to do everything you can just to survive him.”

“You seem certain no one is going to notice that they’re in whatever is left of the castle,” Uryu muses. What would they do if Ichigo showed up on their doorstep?

Grimmjow rubs a hand up the back of his neck and smirks. “Yeah, well, what the hell have the shinigami been able to do so far? None of ‘em have landed a killing blow. ‘Sides, like I said, their power was boosted by the Hogyoku. We all get stronger every day.”

“Maybe I should risk going to Muken just to see it for myself,” Uryu mutters darkly.

Rough fingers grip him by the chin, tilting his head up. “You think we can’t get in? If you want to go see Aizen up close and personal, feel free. I don’t think Soul Society has noticed he’s gotten his control of the Hogyoku back yet, anyway.”

“So we should definitely give them a chance to notice.” Uryu slaps Grimmjow’s hand away.

“They  _ can’t _ notice if Kyouka Suigetsu is always in effect, can they?” Grimmjow raises his eyebrows, Uryu frowning at him.  _ But Aizen no longer has the physical version of Kyouka Suigetsu. _ “It took him time to figure out how to use that zanpakuto of his when it came from inside of him like a Hollow’s Resurreccion, but he figured it out. ‘Course he did, it’s Aizen fucking Sosuke. No one will ever notice because he never turns it off.”

Uryu’s breath hitches. “Then why remain in such a terrible place?”

“For the greater good. ‘Sides, once he’s out, he’s taking all of Muken down with him so there’s no way to go back.” Grimmjow stands, dusts himself off. “Think about it.”

Uryu doesn’t have to think about it, shoving himself to his feet, holding his hand out toward the panther Arrancar. “I’ll do it. Anything to get this nightmare over with faster.”

“Good man.” Grimmjow grasps his hand. “I’ll send Yylfordt to come pick you up.”


	13. Chapter 13

It takes roughly twenty-five minutes to reassure Chad and Ichigo that he wants them to spend the night with just each other and reconnect without him, that he will join them tomorrow night and wants a night to cool down after the last few days. Ichigo teases him about having the shit kicked out of him with Grimmjow and seems impressed when Uryu corrects him that  _ he _ was the one to kick the shit out of Grimmjow. Fifteen minutes after he hangs up the phone and changes into something more suitable for training, a knock comes at his front door. The blonde Arrancar on the other side is not familiar to him.

“So you’re the Quincy that took down my king.” The Arrancar walks into his apartment without being invited, walks a circle around him that makes him feel slightly paranoid, like a prey animal under a predator’s gaze. “Yylfordt Granz. I believe you know my brother.”

_ Granz? _ Then this would be the older brother Szayel had mentioned in passing. “I do. And yes, I did. I’m serious about being strong enough to take on the Royal Guard.”

“I like that. A man who knows what he wants.” Yylfordt stops in front of him, his crimson eyes glittering dangerously before he laughs and slaps Uryu on the shoulder. “Relax, kyoudai. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to escort you to the ones who will.”

“I’m training with the Espada, correct? I’m ready for whatever that brings.” And he knows it will bring pain, because how could it bring anything but?

Yylfordt hums thoughtfully. “You know that my king is only the sixth Espada, correct? Even without that old man around to intrude on our fun, he isn’t the strongest Espada. Nnoitra, Ulquiorra, Nelliel, and Halibel are all stronger. So is Starrk, but he isn’t a fighter.”

“Starrk?” Uryu raises an eyebrow. “Would he be the… The Primera Espada, then?”

“Yes. But he doesn’t want to fight. He just wants friends.” Yylfordt presses his hand back onto Uryu’s shoulders, fingers pressing into his shoulder blade. “So we let him hang around as long as he behaves himself and doesn’t cause trouble. Him and his little girl. You might be better off taking on a higher-ranked Fraccion before you take on Nnoitra.”

Uryu shakes his head. “No. I want to push myself to the limit no matter what that means.”

“Even if it means death? Nnoitra doesn’t know how to hold back. He’s not fighting to die anymore, and his strength has increased nominally,” Yylfordt says.

“Then it means death.” Uryu made his peace with dying the moment he agreed to assist Haschwalth in freeing Yhwach and taking down the Royal Guard, knowing it was unlikely he would walk away from such a thing. “I refuse to die in the Soul Palace because I wasn’t ready or wouldn’t take the risk of difficult training. Besides, I assume you have a healer in Hueco Mundo? So I’ll let him rip me apart and get stitched back together if I have to.”

Yylfordt hums, taps Uryu on the nose. “I like your spirit. Come. I’ll open the garganta to go back to Hueco Mundo outside of the town limits. No use in tipping anyone off.”

“Wait, some of you are still Fraccion? Why? If Aizen’s system of hierarchy isn’t around anymore, I thought… I don’t know. You’d settle outside of that,” Uryu says, locking his apartment door behind him and making sure to lock the deadbolt as well.

“Grimmjow Jaegerjaques is my king. I mean, we all answer to Halibel, but I chose to follow him before I ever knew what an Espada was. Or an Arrancar, for that matter.” Yylfordt leads and Uryu follows, hurrying to catch up with his long strides. “I was an Adjuchas and I admired him strength. I  _ wanted _ to be serve him. I still do. If anything, being granted a second chance at life just gives me a chance to do it properly this go ‘round.”

Uryu nods slowly, thinking this at least makes sense to him, that there was a choice to be made, that they must have met one another before they ever met Aizen Sosuke. “Are you grateful to Aizen for giving you another chance to do it properly?”

“I like Aizen,” Yylfordt says, surprising him. “Yeah, he lied to us, but if you were smart, you figured out he was lying from the beginning. But he gave us strength, and we wanted that.”

_ Of course. _ It was so simple that Uryu was surprised he hadn’t come to that conclusion himself. “Do the other Arrancar share such a thought process about him?”

“Halibel’s still pissed at him for cutting her down, but she’d rather settle that with him in person. The rest of us… Should we hate him?” Yylfordt meets Uryu’s eyes as they descend the stairs together, winging one pale brow at up him. “He gave me strength I wouldn’t have otherwise. He made my king strong. He let me serve him again. And for what it’s worth, he brought back that bratty brother of mine. I went so damn long being side by side with his soul that I think I’d have fucking died if he’d stayed dead and I hadn’t.”

That is heavier than Uryu expects so he swallows, nods, and drops his head.  _ No more personal questions between now and Hueco Mundo. Prepare for the battle ahead. _

Facing the Espada in battle at least gives Uryu an idea of what to expect from them; he remembers Nnoitra Gilga. He remembers the long slender limbs and the impossibly massive blade, the Resurreccion, the  _ many _ arms and the sneering face and the fucking  _ teeth _ where one of his eyes should have been. Nnoitra was a nightmare.

Uryu would have to defeat him if he wanted to justify challenging the Royal Guard.

Despite the weather, Yylfordt walks them through the dark streets with no mention of perhaps taking a bus. Uryu figures this is fair, given the Hollow mask set atop his head. How could they explain that away? And even with the winter chill in the air, Hueco Mundo was just as cold, so the temperature must not bother him overly much.

Once they clear the town itself and reach the trees, Yylfordt turns to him, yanks Uryu up against his chest and heaves him up over his shoulder. “Hold on, kyoudai.”

“What are you  _ doing? _ ” Uryu demands, gripping the back of his shirt for purchase tightly.

“I’m going to use Sonido to get us out of here faster.” Yylfordt clamps a hand across Uryu’s thighs to hold him in place, and when he moves, Uryu has to squeeze his eyes shut to make up for the blur around him and how vaguely dizzy and sick it makes him feel.

Karakura Town is left behind them when Yylfordt sets him back on his feet, and he realizes they are miles away from town; Karakura is no longer in sight even distantly.  _ He must not have wanted to risk us getting caught under any circumstances. _

How would Uryu explain sneaking away with an Arrancar in the middle of the night?

“King said you were tough.” Yylfordt grips him by the chin, tilts his head up so the cold moonlight above them spills across his face directly. “I want to see just how tough you are at some point. But not tonight. You’ll need everything you have to fight Nnoitra.”

When the garganta opens, Yylfordt takes him by the elbow and escorts him through it, and the sands of Hueco Mundo are beneath their feet once again.

Despite the chill in the air, the atmosphere seems more welcoming. Uryu tilts his head back, gazing up at the pale grey wisps of cloud in the dark sky, the glimmering of the stars and the wicked sickle of the silver moon hanging above their heads. The desert gleams pale around them, almost glowing beneath the moonlight, and distantly he can feel the reiatsu of various Hollows. The closest reiatsu is impossibly strong, enough to put him on edge until he realize it is focused within the ruins of what appears to be Las Noches.

“Quincy did a number on it, but it’s home.” Yylfordt swings an arm around his neck, dragging him toward the white stone. “We got rid of that stupid fake sky, though.”

Uryu presses his lips together in a thin line. “I’d apologize, but I wasn’t the one here.”

“If the Quincy are going to fight on our side now, I guess I can’t be that mad. ‘Sides, we would have done the same thing probably.” Yylfordt combs his fingers through Uryu’s hair, entirely too familiar in the way he touches him. “I’m real interested in seeing this special power of yours up close, I gotta say. King said it was a real fucking sight to behold.”

His Vollstandig. Uryu nods once. “The moment I am forced to use it, I will do so.”

As it stands, they only cross the gate into Las Noches, not even into the larger structures of the building itself, when Uryu feels the presence of something dark above him.

“Kept me waiting, didn’t you, Quincy?” The voice is all kinds of nasty and Yylfordt immediately bolts away from his side just as an impossible massive sickle blade buries itself in the sand where he had been standing a moment before. “But you’re finally here.”

Uryu turns his head toward the wall at his back, unsurprised to see a lanky Arrancar poised there, the moon framing his head like his own horns in Resurreccion. “Nnoitra Gilga.”

“You know my name!” Nnoitra twists his wrist, pulling the chain attached to his weapon taut, yanking it out of the sand catching the handle carefully in one long-fingered hand. “Grimmjow said you were coming to fight me. You want to defeat the Royal Guard.”

“Precisely. I want to get stronger. And I will do anything to become stronger.” Uryu pivots on heel and summons his bow without a second thought, drawing a reishi arrow.

Nnoitra is there, and then he is gone. Uryu has less than a second to track him.

He swings the bow around fast enough that his shoulder protests and when he releases the arrow, it sings through the air directly above him. He has a moment to see the light illuminate Nnoitra’s surprised expression before it pierces the patch over his eye and soars through the hole in his skull, sputtering out not far above the back of his head.

Slowly, Nnoitra’s thin lips curl into a twisted smile. “I like you. It’s going to be a pity that I have to kill you because I’d much rather keep you around to play with.”

“If you kill me, you kill me. I’m going to make it as hard for you as I can,” Uryu vows.

Nnoitra’s weapon swings through the air just above his head but Uryu has already dodged it, moving in closer to him.  _ His hierro is powerful so I have to focus on breaking it. Once I break it, it should be easy enough to cut him after that. Should I switch to a blade? _

It would have been embarrassing once to think about using a  _ blade _ like some common  _ shinigami _ but Haschwalth and Yhwach had taught him there was pride in a weapon like that.

When Nnoitra’s zanpakuto almost catches him around the waist, Uryu abandons his bow entirely and draws his reishi into a blade, a broad sword much like the one Haschwalth had wielded. He has to flip in order to miss the blade but hands with his feet on the flat of the blade and runs up the long handle, swinging his own sword. It drags along the length of Nnoitra’s hierro, slicing through the fabric of his white vest, but it does little damage to his skin.  _ Should I aim for his Hollow hole? Is such a location vulnerable to attack? _

“Taking too long to think!” Nnoitra slams his elbow into Uryu’s ribs, knocking him away and winding him, sending him rolling through the sand. “You don’t have time for that, Quincy.”

Fighting someone so much taller and longer than him is a challenge. Nnoitra has more reach so he can remain farther away from Uryu even as he lands each blow. His torso is much farther off of the ground— So Uryu aims for his legs, rolling between them when Nnoitra zanpakuto whistles through the air toward him again. The blade doesn’t have to cut through his skin but Uryu slams the edge into his knee as hard as he can until it buckles.

Even if he can’t cut Nnoitra’s hierro, he summoned a broadsword for a reason.

The minute Nnoitra’s knee crumples beneath him, Uryu is there, foot planted in the small of his back to cover the height distance still between them. The blade makes a sickening crunch when he slams the flat of it against Nnoitra’s skull, sending him flying forward.

_ Stay on top of him, _ Uryu reminds himself.  _ Don’t let him get up if you can afford it. _

Nnoitra is long and flexible. He swings his body around even in the sand and the curved end of his zanpakuto catches Uryu in the gut enough to break skin. Blood soaks through the front of his shirt and he swears, leaping back, hand plastered against the skin as he channels Blut Vene to stop the bleeding. He needs to maintain focus even injured.  _ And what do I do if they don’t have a healer? Inoue can’t see me in this condition. _

“That’s a neat trick,” Nnoitra tells him, rubbing a hand up the back of his head. “I’ll have to steal it sometime. Come at me, Quincy, I want to know what your blood tastes like.”

Uryu doesn’t have time to overthink his attacks. Nnoitra is right. He has to think on his feet so he throws himself into the fray and swings his broadsword. When Nnoitra’s zanpakuto comes straight for him, he lets it. The blade is tilted enough that the wicked curve will bisect him from shoulder to waist, and Uryu lets himself press right up against that blade. It  _ hits _ but doesn’t sink in, Blut Vene deflecting the force of it. He swings the sword down and severs the hilt just above where Nnoitra’s hand grips it.

The blade smacks down against the sand and Nnoitra stares down at him, intrigued. “You did something,” he says, advancing on Uryu. “And I want to see what you did.”

Uryu rolls his shoulders, darts away from the hand that lances out to grip at the front of his shirt. The fabric tears, but he doesn’t mind. “Use your Resurreccion.”

“You haven’t even beaten me down enough for me to need it,” Nnoitra sneers at him. “What makes you think I’ll use it for you? Are you that desperate to die, boy? I thought you wanted to fight the Royal Guard and save the world!”

The disgust in his voice does nothing to shatter Uryu’s resolve. “And I’m telling you that your present state isn’t strong enough to strain me. Use your Resurreccion and I’ll show you my Vollstandig. And then you don’t have to worry about holding back on me.”

“Who said I was worried about that?” Nnoitra’s one visible eye glitters in the darkness. “Your Vollstandig, huh? Heard it’s like a Resurreccion. Heard it makes you tougher.”

Uryu licks his lips. He can taste blood on his tongue. “It does. I heard you like to fight. Let me give you a fight more vicious than the one you had with Zaraki Kenpachi.”

“You got it.” Nnoitra picks up the blades of his zanpakuto like it’s nothing, and his reiatsu bears down on Uryu so suddenly it chokes him. “Pray, Santa Teresa!”

Uryu activates his Vollstandig, his reishi wings unfolding from his back, and charges.

There are four arms to watch now, four scythes that swing at his head, but he has the sky advantage this time. It takes time and bearing down on Nnoitra to break his hierro, but he does. Dark red splatters on the sand just as Nnoitra sinks a scythe into his thigh, the pain so sharp and sudden that Uryu yelps. Again, he activates Blut Vene to stop the bleeding.

If he dies of blood loss, he will never forgive himself. It has to be instant.

“Ulquiorra can fly, too!” Nnoitra leaps out of the sand and catches him by the calf, nails digging into his skin as he yanks Uryu down and slams him into the sand so suddenly it jars him, rattles his brain inside of his skull. “You aren’t special, you fucking brat!”

One of the scythes sinks into his shoulder and keeps him pinned in place as Nnoitra bears down at him, black hair hanging around his face like a veil as he raises another scythe and slams it down. Uryu barely twists away from it, aims a reishi arrow up and thanks whoever is watching over him when it explodes in Nnoitra’s face, apparently enough to break his hierro. When another scythe comes flying at his face, he lets it. He activates Blut Vene and savors the satisfaction when the blade only glances off of his skin.

“So the Quincy got a hierro too, huh?” Nnoitra seizes him by the throat and lifts him out of the sand, pitching him up into the air. “Come at me with everything you got!”

He accounts for four arms. He does not account for  _ six _ but the moment he dares to fly closer to Nnoitra, it is a fifth arm that rakes a blade across his chest, scraping against his Blut Vene but too dull to scratch it. Uryu does not risk turning it off now. Instead, he keeps it activated and wonders if he should have bled out from his injuries.

Probably, but such a thing hardly matters.

Instead, the moment Nnoitra drags him out of the sky once more, he summons his broadsword and aims the sharp edge of the blade at Nnoitra’s throat.

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

“Uryu-kun is lucky that I like him so much or I might have let him die in such a condition.” Szayel hovers beside him, fingers streaked with Uryu’s own blood, as he heals the injuries that Uryu sustained in his battle with Nnoitra. “Nnoitra is significantly less lucky.”

“Let me the fuck go, Tesla!” Nnoitra writhes on the other bed. “Nelliel, don’t fucking  _ spit _ on me, you’re so fucking gross, I fucking  _ hate _ you—”

Wincing, Uryu looks up into the golden eyes of the Arrancar assisting him, remembering the three times they clashed prior to now and in complete disbelief that his life would have led him into Szayel’s hands. That the hands that were once responsible for trying to crush his organs were now checking their condition as he worked on the wounds still open and bleeding from Nnoitra’s assault. As it turned out, Nnoitra could heal his wounds when he was in Resurreccion, and Blut Vene had saved Uryu from bleeding out from most of his.

It was still a miracle either of them were alive, that they passed out before dying.

Szayel hums to himself as he works, fingers careful as he focuses his reiatsu on the wound on Uryu’s shoulder. “You should be lucky I learned how to do this at all. Nelliel’s skill was unique among the Arrancar until I bothered to learn. Do you want to get spit on?”

“Not particularly. Thank you for your help.” Uryu winces as Szayel prods the wound a little too hard, wishing for Orihime’s painless golden glow, but he needs to work with what he has, and he should be grateful nonetheless. After all, he nearly died. “I should apologize to you for assuming you had something to do with what Kurosaki was suffering from.”

Bright golden eyes flashed to his own once more. “Uryu-kun, you’re too kind to imply I could have the skill to do such a thing. But your apology is nonetheless accepted.”

“I couldn’t beat Nnoitra. I’m still not ready.” He knew this would be true, but the reality still makes his stomach hurt and he squeezes his eyes shut, not willing himself to think too hard about it now.  _ How did Ichigo shoulder all of this? How could he have grown so strong? _

“No, you are not. However, you did not die from Nnoitra’s blade, and Nnoitra himself passed out before he could deal you the killing blow.” Szayel finishes with his shoulder, lifting Uryu’s arm as if to test the ligaments. “You were not there, but Zaraki Kenpachi had a great advantage. Nelliel had already battered Nnoitra quite a lot before the two of them had time to clash, and Nelliel was stronger. I do not believe Zaraki was naturally.”

“Hell no,” Nnoitra spits. “He couldn’t have beat me if not for her help.”

That is, at least, a comfort. Uryu does his best to breathe easily while Szayel works on the wound on his stomach and tries to ignore the fledgling panic in his gut when Szayel cheerfully ignores him that it was almost deep enough to gut him properly, organs and all. All of his injuries are severe, but they could have been worse and it was wise of Uryu to learn how Blut Vene could be manipulated so he could protect himself from the worst of the damage. Szayel can piece him back together from what there is left.

“When are we going to fight again?” Szayel asks him. “I know you’re having fun with the upper echelon of the Espada, but what about for the sake of nostalgia?”

Uryu winces. “Ah, yes. I was so concerned I’d never get the opportunity to fight you again.”

“You can be so cruel to the man who saves your life.” Szayel smirks, combs his fingers through Uryu’s hair, and then turns his attention to the wound on Uryu’s thigh. “Now this is a nasty one. That Blut Vene comes in handy. Nnoitra severed your femoral artery, so you’re quite lucky that Yylfordt was able to find us and drag us out to help you.”

Had Yylfordt been watching? Probably so. Uryu could hardly fault him for that. He wanted to see the Vollstandig, and Uryu promised him that when the need arose, he would use it.

“I’m still learning to perfect it. I should have activated it as soon as the fight began. I could have avoided injury at all.” Is it presumptuous to say that? Possibly. But it is true.

Szayel wets his lips. “Very interesting. You’ll have to show me everything about this. I want to know more, but I don’t particularly think that capturing and dissecting a Quincy to see how their body makeup works is good for our shared goal. So you can just show me.”

“When we fight, I will.” Uryu winces, touching the back of his head to check for any soreness. “I’ll have to wait until my reiatsu is restored, though. That may take some time. Unless you wanted to just kill me outright by fighting me when I’m weakened.”

“No, I want you at full strength. I think I deserve that much after going through such great effort to make sure you live.” When Szayel smiles, there’s a wicked edge to it.

Uryu sighs at him. “Fine, fine. Full strength it is. Are you going to fight the Guard as well?”

“Of course. We’ve all been training to increase our strength and to reach our second release now that we know such a thing is possible.” Szayel lifts his head by the back of his neck, inspecting his head carefully, fingers probing his scalp. “And we have to break Aizen out of confinement, which will take some true effort. Ulquiorra wants to keep that mission to himself even though we have told him time and time again that such a thing is not going to work. But he wants to surprise Aizen with his second release.”

“You’re going to release Aizen Sosuke from confinement. I should have known he’d want such a thing in order to help us.” Would it result in even more death? Did they have a right to imprison him in the first place? Grimmjow had a point; Aizen had killed an untold number of souls just to feed his Hogyoku, had struck down his own Espada, had killed his fellow shinigami, but how many millions had died suffering in agony in Soul Society?

When did the ends justify the means? Uryu is no longer sure he knows for certain.

Szayel nods, lays his head back down on the mattress. “Yes, we are. Everything else aside, all of the treachery and lies and deceit, Aizen Sosuke is an Arrancar now. He belongs to us and it would be just rude to let the shinigami believe he still belonged to them.”

Hollows are strange. Uryu had learned this quickly enough upon meeting Shiro, upon spending any amount of time with Grimmjow, but it still throws him off just how strange their culture really is. It mattered to even one of them that Aizen was part Hollow? It made Szayel think it was  _ right _ to release him if only because, in his eyes, the shinigami should never have had any sway over Aizen? Such a thing would not have mattered to anyone else, but then, Uryu has never met another being like the Arrancar.

Before he can speak, though, Szayel cocks his head. “It’s the same for you, isn’t it? Yhwach is a Quincy, is yours. Not some puppet for Soul Society. It’s only natural that you see the state they keep him in and you want to desperately undo it.”

“I suppose it’s like that for both of us,” Uryu admits. “Because they were both fighting for the same goal, in the end. Get to the Royal realm. Destroy the Soul King.”

Szayel pets a hand down the side of his face. “And they were both taken down by a system that was put in place specifically to keep something rotten and nasty at the head of all three worlds. I don’t care what the shinigami think is right. If Halibel-sama says that what she saw was horrific and awful, then it needs to be stopped. And we will help her do it.”

“You must have a lot of trust in her to follow her like this considering your last leader wasn’t exactly honestly with you,” Uryu says, slowly sitting up now that he’s healed.

“Well, Halibel is different. She’s one of us, for one. And she gave us another chance at life, for two. She was the one who approached Aizen about helping us.” Szayel flashes a light in his eyes and Uryu lets him check how his pupils respond before he nods, seemingly satisfied with his own work. “And what else is there to do? I don’t like the shinigami. I don’t like that they made such a wicked decision for us. It seems wrong to let them.”

Nnoitra is quivering with rage, wet with what looks like spit in several places while his Fraccion, Tesla Lindocruz, holds him in place and runs his fingers through Nnoitra’s long, dark hair. The action looks soothing even though it does nothing to slow the rate at which Nnoitra’s body shakes, but Uryu can see the fond little smile on Tesla’s face as he leans in, whispers something right up against the shell of Nnoitra’s ear that finally relaxes him somewhat. It makes something in Uryu’s gut twist.  _ How are Sado and Ichigo going to react when they find out I’ve done all of this? I can’t hide it from them forever. _

Szayel touches him on the shoulder. “If you aren’t cut out to make the necessary sacrifices that this necessitates, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll do what I have to do. For everyone I care about.” Uryu presses his hand against his stomach, surprised there is not even a sting of pain left. “If he could die over and over again protecting us, the least I can do is be willing to risk it for him.”

“You’re an interesting boy, Uryu-kun. I’ve always liked you.” Szayel ruffles his hair playfully. “Be sure to get cut open next time so I can see what your insides look like.”

Uryu sighs. “I’ll try. Nnoitra, thank you for the fight. It was very illuminating.”

“We’ll do it again sometime. Just not tonight ‘cause Tesla gets worked up if I fight too much in one night.” Nnoitra wraps one long-fingered hand around Tesla’s forearm, crossed over his chest, and Tesla smiles against his hair. “You weren’t bad. I want to fight again. Wanna see if i can keep you grounded. You should sky battle with Ulquiorra.”

The thought of facing the Cuatro Espada makes Uryu’s stomach hard and tight; he remembers the golden eyes, the black wings, the taloned fingers, the slender tail wrapped around Ichigo’s throat as the Cero Obscurus charged and then carved its way through his chest. Could Uryu survive that? Not likely. And that was only one of his many abilities. Ichigo only won because Orihime had been able to call the Hollow from within him to preserve his life and fight in his place. Uryu supposes he owes Shiro for saving his life then considering Ulquiorra had every intention of killing him.

But if he wants to defeat the Royal Guard, it may be necessary to face that fear and move forward. Perhaps he can learn to summon reishi in the same vicious-looking spears Ulquiorra had utilized in his battle with Ichigo? Maybe it was possible.

“You’re already plotting.” Szayel flicks him in the forehead and Uryu scowls at him, rubbing the spot. “Come. We’ll set up a playdate for you and Ulqui-chan.”

Before Uryu can protest, Szayel grips him by the wrist and drags him out of the bed and into the hallway, ignoring that Uryu’s legs are still unstable beneath him. Faintly, he can hear Nnoitra snickering in the room behind him and swears he’ll behead him next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> making uryu fight my favorite espada is fun actually i love them. also i'm sorry barragan fans but it's not like he would have helped them break aizen out of jail so.


	14. Chapter 14

Though Uryu had spent little to no time in the halls of Las Noches the last time he was here, too busy fighting Arrancar to examine the architecture, there are several parts of the palace that are stable still. The hallways they traverse are half in ruin but when Szayel turns the corner, dragging Uryu just behind him still, the hall is remarkably clear of damage. As is the closed door Szayel ignores in favor of pushing it open without so much as knocking or calling out to the inhabitants that they are about to barge in on them.

Standing in the center of the shockingly minimalist bedroom are Grimmjow and Ulquiorra. For a moment, it seems like neither of them have realized they have guests. They stand close together in the center of the room, half-illuminated by the moonlight spilling in through the high windows. Grimmjow’s hand is wrapped around Ulquiorra’s wrist, fingers pressing into his skin. Distantly, Uryu wonders if Ulquiorra’s skin can bleach any whiter than it is now or if pressing into his skin will cause no visual changes.

Szayel skids to a stop in front of him and Uryu realizes that Grimmjow has his head bent close to Ulquiorra’s, murmuring words not meant for either of them. It is Ulquiorra who notices them first, head tilting just slightly, green eyes fixed on them.

“We have guests,” he says, and Grimmjow drops his hand instantly.

Ice blue eyes dart toward them and the corners of Grimmjow’s mouth twitch up at the corners, but it does nothing to distract Uryu from the pointed steps he takes away from the smaller Arrancar. “Come to pick a new challenger, Quincy boy?”

“I’ve come to set the date,” Uryu says patiently, and he watches Grimmjow’s eyebrow twitch. Does he get the reference, then? “I managed to tie with Nnoitra Gilga.”

Ulquiorra lifts his chin. “And now you wish to challenge me? You will die.”

“Then so be it. I need to be stronger, and the only way to get stronger is to push myself to the very limits.” And if he dies, then he was never ready anyway. “If Kurosaki was willing to die by your hand to do what needed to be done, then I should be willing to do the same.”

“Kurosaki Ichigo… I have unfinished business with him. When this is done, I will finish it.” The quality of Ulquiorra’s voice is still vaguely unsettling with how little it changes.

Uryu has his bow drawn and at the ready as soon as those words leave Ulquiorra’s lips; he sees the slight widening of those green eyes with the gesture, the way Grimmjow cackles. “No, you will not. Kurosaki Ichigo will not be fighting anymore. He has gone through enough in his lifetime. If you have a score to settle, then you will do it with me. If you go anywhere near him, I will find a way to end you no matter how much it takes.”

Grimmjow tilts his head. “You really think you could find a way to kill Ulquiorra?”

“He’s not immortal,” Uryu says stiffly. “Kurosaki killed him once. I can do it again.”

Szayel’s hand snaps shut around his shoulder. “I really do wish you wouldn’t. It took an awful lot of effort to resurrect each Arrancar, and Espada were even harder.”

“Your determination to protect him is admirable, Quincy. If you are able to defeat me, then I will cease my interest in continuing my battle with Kurosaki Ichigo.” Ulquiorra’s eyes seem to flash in the half-light of the moon. “But if you lose to me, you will die. I do not do anything halfway. It is not what Aizen-sama required out of me.”

“Who gives a shit what Aizen wanted? He’s in prison. We don’t gotta worry about him right now,” Grimmjow says, but Ulquiorra does not shift his gaze from Uryu.

However, that  _ does _ beg a question that has been on Uryu’s mind; he lets his bow vanish as he lowers his arms. “How are you even able to contact Aizen in Muken?”

“As a scientist, my interest in Aizen-sama’s abilities has always been at peak. No other shinigami has ever shown such a naturally strong reiatsu, not someone who is pure shinigami at the very least. Kurosaki Ichigo is not a true shinigami.” Szayel’s arm comes to rest around his shoulders and Uryu grits his teeth but lets it be, not in the mood to argue with the scientist. “As a hybrid, though, Aizen-sama’s abilities are even more incredible. Kyouka Suigetsu no longer possesses a physical form and yet her abilities are present in him.”

“Zanpakuto for a shinigami are the essence of their soul. Why should such a thing be surprising to you?” Ulquiorra asks, and though there is still no inflection in his voice, Uryu gets the distinct impression that he feels offended by the prospect.

Szayel rolls his eyes. “Come on, Ulquiorra, think of the possibilities. He’s internalized the ability so that he can use it without the blade, something no other shinigami has demonstrated an ability to do! Anyway, Uryu-kun, to answer your question. Kyouka Suigetsu has a very special ability. Do you know what it is, by any chance?”

Uryu nods, and just knowing that explains everything. “She possesses Perfect Hypnosis.”

Slender fingers grip his chin, biting into his jaw. “I  _ adore _ this mortal. He’s so intelligent.”

“That hurts,” Uryu protests, and Szayel lets him go. “So Aizen has been consenting to remain in Muken until the right moment, and you visit him via Perfect Hypnosis?”

Ulquiorra nods once. “I have been opening garganta to visit him as necessary, and he cloaks my presence with Perfect Hypnosis. As long as his reiatsu is of a higher level than all of those around him, it will work. It was unstable at first, as he was not used to using it from within his body body as he was using his blade, but as time has passed, he has perfected the ability once more. As far as they are concerned, Aizen-sama is merely sitting.”

“The fact no one in Soul Society has noticed is hilarious,” Uryu says, his voice dry. “Their most dangerous prisoner with one of the most dangerous abilities, and they have no way of knowing what he’s doing. They probably can’t do much to protect against it, anyway.”

Szayel smiles, combing his gloved fingers through Uryu’s hair in a fashion that is far too familiar. “And now you understand why we have the advantage, Uryu-kun. Only Kurosaki Ichigo has never been subjected to Perfect Hypnosis among the shinigami who would stand against us. Even their current Soutaichou has fallen beneath its effects before.”

“So preventing Kurosaki from being involved is going to aid all of you,” Uryu murmurs.

“Why do you think I reached out to you in the first place?” Grimmjow asks, and Uryu looks up at him, studying the sharp lines of his face, the smirk still present. “You wanted to keep him out of the way. That benefits us. And you got a reason to fight with us.”

“Is it true that you have a direct line to Yhwach via your Inner World?” Ulquiorra asks.

Uryu feels vaguely uncomfortable with the eyes of three dangerous Espada trained on him like this but nods, knowing he needs to be transparent so that all of them will be on the same page. “I do. For the most part, he’s faded. It’s Haschwalth clinging to his soul through their connection that helps me the most. He’s stronger somehow.”

“Are all of the Quincy connected to Yhwach?” Szayel asks, making a thoughtful noise when Uryu nods in confirmation. “I could bring them back if their souls are preserved within his. It might be more difficult with Quincy, but I could still take a shot at it.”

“I need to decide which Sternritter would be helpful and which would only be detrimental to our cause, but once I do, we should be able to mobilize.” He really needs to make a pros and cons list for each Sternritter in turn. Some are obvious; the Schutzstaffel stood with Yhwach until the end and would do so once more.

When Szayel smiles, the expression is dangerous. “I do so love having fun with these little experiments, Uryu-kun. I look forward to seeing what I can do with your brethren.”

“You want to challenge me next, correct?” Ulquiorra’s eyes sweep him up and down and then the Espada sighs. “Fine. But not this evening. You already fought Nnoitra, so I know your reiatsu is depleted. I want to challenge you only when you are able to use your Vollstandig to its full capabilities. You can see if you can fly as high as I can.”

“Thank you.” It feels strange to thank anyone for agreeing to possibly end up killing him.

Ulquiorra is quiet for a moment, then meets Uryu’s eyes once more. “How is the woman?”

_ Orihime. _ So he remembers her after all. “She’s fine. Happy. If we survive this and actually manage to do anything good with it, maybe you can meet her and see for yourself.”

“That is not necessary. However, I would like her to know that I understand, now, why she cares so much for this thing she calls the heart.” Ulquiorra turns his back then. “You may leave my personal chambers. You too, trash. I am done speaking to you this evening.”

Grimmjow snorts, giving Ulquiorra’s shoulder a push as he walks away from him. “Whatever, man. Think about what I said and get back to me on it before the end of the week.”

In the hallway, with the door safely shut, Szayel gives Grimmjow a critical up-down. “What did you ask Ulqui-chan to think about? For that matter, when was the last time you were allowed to physically touch him without risking losing your arm to his Cero?”

When Grimmjow smiles, Uryu swears his canines are too sharp for such a human-looking mouth. “What do you think we were talking about?”

☽     ☾     ☽     ☾

Yylfordt drops him out just outside of Karakura Town and Uryu makes the walk back. Szayel’s healing is excellent enough for what it is, and he does wonder what skills Szayel does have in healing. At any rate, his body is not too sore or too tired, and though his feet should ache from how much walking and battling he has done tonight, they feel fine. His mind is what is tired, ready to crawl beneath his covers and sleep away the rest of the night. When he checks the screen of his phone, Uryu winces. It is after three already.

“Figured as much,” he mutters, pocketing his phone once more. The trip had taken more time than he anticipated, likely because he passed out and had to be healed. He needs to train before he faces Ulquiorra. “Fuck, I hope they don’t want to see me in the morning.”

Morning sounds like a great time to sleep. Maybe around noon he can consider getting up.

“...Don’t know  _ why _ you always want to take the scenic route back to society.”

The voice has Uryu moving instinctively, slipping off of the pathway in this part of the trees and into the growth even before his mind processes it, and then he shoves a hand over his mouth to muffle the noise of surprise that leaves his lips. He sinks down into the overgrowth, careful to remain still because the frozen plants will crack and give him away.

“I don’t know why you always insist on meeting up with me. You should simply go home.”

That voice has Uryu freezing, pressing close to the tree trunk nearest him, depending on its shadow to cloak him as the two speakers come into view, but he would know their voices anywhere. He would, of course, know the second voice better than the first even though Ishida Ryuken is one of the few people in this world that Uryu truly wants to forget about. If forgetting someone would erase them from existence, Uryu would give himself amnesia.

Why the  _ hell _ is he walking down this forest path with Kurosaki Isshin at this hour?

_ Work,  _ Uryu reminds himself. Ryuken’s hours are all over the place and he usually takes the long walk home for the fresh air, something Uryu, again, wishes he did not have knowledge of because he just has no fond feelings toward this man.  _ But why is Isshin— _

“What are you gonna do if a Hollow shows up and you can’t fight it? You really think the Espada are gonna confine themselves to fighting the kids?” Isshin asks, his voice suggesting far too much optimism at the thought of being able to fight.

Ryuken, predictably, sighs. “Shouldn’t you be patrolling outside of your son’s apartment building if you’re so concerned about Hollows? They tend to seek him out specifically.”

“Yeah, well.” Isshin is quiet for a moment and Uryu swears inside of his head when the man stops walking not far from where Uryu is hidden in the shadows. “Is he gonna be okay? I know you aren’t a shrink or whatever so it’s not like you’d  _ know, _ but I just. I’m worried.”

“I studied psychology at university, actually. I just chose not to major in it.” Ryuken stops as well, and the moonlight spilling in through the leaves just illuminates the silver of his hair, the glitter of his glasses. “Did you know the boy was in such a mental state? As often as I critique your parenting skills, I imagine you would have gotten him help—”

Isshin cuts him off. “I didn’t know. I mean, he was sad, yeah, like… Masaki died. Of course he was sad about that. But I didn’t realize it had gotten as bad as it had.”

“Did you two ever talk about it? Though I suppose you’re not one for talking when it comes down to it.” Ryuken slips a hand into his shirt pocket, and Uryu hears the familiar flicker of a lighter as he places a cigarette between his lips.  _ So this is that kind of conversation. _

It feels childish to be crouched here in the snow and the frost while his father and his boyfriend’s father talk to one another about such a sensitive topic, but Uryu is trapped now because the last thing he wants to do is step into view and have to confront Ryuken in any way, shape, or form. Listening them talk about Ichigo makes it worse, though, but Uryu feels like he  _ should _ because he wants to know where Isshin stands on this and how he feels about it. A part of him is bitter because Ichigo’s father had never noticed how much he was suffering even when it was right in front of his face like this.

He knows he should offer some leeway; he was Ichigo’s friend for years and had never picked up on it as well as he should have. But Isshin was his  _ father. _ They  _ lived _ together.

“I mean… Sometimes, we talked about her. Not often, but sometimes. I never got the sense it could get so bad that he’d be looking for an official diagnosis. Once he started fighting, he wasn’t as sad anymore. I thought it was helping.” Isshin leans against a tree on the edge of the path. “How much of an idiot was I for believing that, Ryu?”

_ Ryu? _ Uryu wrinkles his nose in disgust at the nickname.  _ Since when do you call him that? _

Ryuken exhales pale blue smoke in the air, the slender curls rolling into each other, dissipating in the cold air. When he breathes again, his breath comes out white. “The biggest one. A child fighting is no excuse for taking care of his mental health issues.”

“Guess you’d know about that. How’s Uryu been?” Isshin goes right for the jugular, and Uryu has to admire him for that even though he  _ loathes _ it when Ryuken talks about him.

“Uryu is an adult who chooses not to consider me a part of his life any longer, and I can’t rightfully say I blame him for making that choice.” The answer is surprisingly diplomatic, and very much the truth; their last conversation occurred on Uryu’s graduation day where he informed his father he no longer wanted to speak to him. “However, Uryu is very intelligent. I assume he’s making excellent grades in university. I do not know if he is taking care of himself as well as he should, but it’s not my concern to have.”

When Isshin exhales, it sounds suspiciously like a laugh, though a bittersweet one at that. “I hope it never gets that bad between me and Ichigo. It’s already bad enough as it is without him thinking that I don’t care about or don’t want him to do well.”

“Please point me to the part of this conversation that suggested that,” Ryuken says coolly.

“Didn’t you just say it wasn’t your concern to have whether or not Uryu was taking care of himself?” Isshin asks, and Uryu tilts his head.  _ Yes, you did say that. _

Ryuken inhales off of his cigarette and speaks through a cloud of smoke. “Precisely. That’s not the same as saying I don’t want him to take care of himself. But I recognize that if I wasn’t able to take care of him when he was a teenager, then it’s not my right to be worried now. Being his father and being his  _ father _ are two different things.”

“I guess that’s true,” Isshin admits, and Uryu can almost  _ feel _ the way he’s scrambling for a different topic.  _ Why do you care if you upset him?  _ “So, Ichigo. Do you think he’s going—”

Ryuken cuts him off. “With professional help, your son is going to be just fine.”

“That’s a relief. I’d… I was really worried that so much damage had been done that there was no going back.” And Isshin really does sound like he believes that, which only makes Uryu nod in agreement. He’d resolved to do this alone specifically because it  _ had _ nearly gotten to that point. “I don’t want to lose him like I lost his mother.”

_ Oh. _ Uryu blinks at that, looks down at the ground beneath him. Had it been hard for Isshin to watch his son rush into so many battles, no matter how high the odds were stacked in his favor? There was no telling how concerned he was. No one had ever asked him.

“Yes, well, I would suggest keeping the boy out of fighting if you can. It’s not good for his recovery. In fact, I’d say it’s directly detrimental.” Ryuken drops his cigarette butt and Uryu can hear it stomped out beneath his shoe. “If that’s all you wanted, then I’d like you to leave me be for the night. I’m tired and I want to go home and go straight to bed.”

Isshin nods. “Right, I’ve already kept you long enough. Sweet dreams, Ryu.”

He flash steps away and Uryu waits for his father to move on so he can creep out of the trees and go bath to his own apartment. For a moment, Ryuken only stares in the direction Isshin had gone, and though he has always been a master at keeping his expression straight, there is a flicker of something in his features— And then he looks directly at Uryu’s hiding place and Uryu realizes Ryuken has been aware of him this entire time.

“Come out of the trees,” he says. “The buffoon really does believe he could protect me from a Hollow when he wasn’t even aware you were here this entire time.”

Slowly, Uryu steps back onto the path. “How did you know? I’ve controlled my reiatsu.”

“And I spent most of your life learning the pattern of it. I don’t think you could completely hide it from me even if you wanted to.” Ryuken looks him up and down and for one tense moment, Uryu is  _ certain _ his father is going to say something derisive. “You look as though you’ve recently been in a fight. Did you sustain any serious injuries?”

Of course. Even with Szayel’s healing, the state of his clothing makes it obviously something has happened. Uryu can feel the cold winter air cutting through the holes. “It’s all taken care of. Nothing to worry about.  _ Ryu? _ Since when does he call you that?”

“He picks up many insufferable habits.” Which is not an answer, Uryu notes, but what more can he expect from Ryuken at this point? “Have you managed to reach Vollstandig yet?”

Does he know Uryu is still actively training? It must just be because of the Espada sneaking into the World of the Living. He would have no other reason to ask, not even close to being in the loop about the truth. “I have. I can hold it for a prolonged period of time.”

“I expected no less from you.” Ryuken turns, already preparing to walk away. He knows he’s overstayed their conversation, which is impressive. “Enjoy your evening, Uryu.”

“Wait.” The word leaves his lips before he intends it to, but Ryuken pauses, half-turned away from him, cold eyes fixed on him. Waiting for him to speak. “What would you have done if it was me who disappeared like that? What would you do if I did?”

The thought has not been one to seriously consider even though he knows he should have made his peace with it by now, but a part of him feels odd about the reality that if he dies in Soul Society, there will likely  be no body returned to Ryuken. Why would they return the body of a dead traitor to his Quincy father when Ryuken already considers himself to be an enemy of Soul Society? There would be no one to tell Ryuken what would happen except for, perhaps, Kurosaki Isshin unless the truth was covered up. He might simply wake up one day to find no trace of Uryu’s reiatsu in Karakura Town. That would be it.

Ryuken tilts his head downward, breaking their staring contest. “I do not have an answer for you, Uryu. I would like to think I would be accomplished enough to see what was wrong and be able to save you from the confines of your own mind, but what you did is… Nearly miraculous considering I have never heard that our Inner Worlds were connected.”

They were, that was true— Which means Ryuken’s should be connected to this, which is not something Uryu considered before now. “But what if I was just gone tomorrow?”

“Are you going to be vanishing soon? Well, you’re an adult now. You can do what you want with your life, and there is nothing I can do to stop you.” Ryuken looks at him and Uryu feels like his father’s eyes might be piercing through him. “Does this have something to do with the fight you were in tonight? Is there something you want to tell me?”

Would it matter if he told Ryuken? The man would tell no one, but Uryu could hardly risk such an enormous plot being unveiled in such a way, not when even a whisper could destroy the careful house of cards he’s been building. “If I died, would you even miss me?”

“Yes.” There is no hesitation in the world, which shocks Uryu. “If you’re going to do something to get yourself killed, I hope you have a good reason. I won’t bother telling you not to do it. You never did listen to me, anyway. Are your friends going with you?”

Uryu shakes his head once. “No. Just me this time. They shouldn’t be part of this.”

“Quincy honor? I understand.” Ryuken lifts a hand, pauses, then pats Uryu gently on the shoulder. “You faced down Yhwach. I doubt there is anything you couldn’t do if you were set on doing it. Your mother would have been very proud of you.”

The mention of his mother makes Uryu’s chest hurt and the words just keep coming without him being able to filter them. “What would you do if you found out that something you’d done was wrong, but you thought it was right? Wouldn’t it be right to change it?”

“I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I didn’t try.” Ryuken studies his face and Uryu wonders if his father can read him, if he can see all of the secrets just trapped beneath the surface. “Do what you think is the right thing to do to correct your mistake. But be sure of yourself. Making a bad situation worse will only make it harder for you.”

He takes his hand back and Uryu swallows, his throat clicking. “All right. Thank you. And… For what it’s worth? I do make excellent grades and I have been taking care of myself.”

There is a bare flicker of emotion in Ryuken’s eyes for a breath of a second before he exhales slowly. “That’s good to hear. You should get some rest. Best not to ruin your sleep schedule even while you’re on vacation. And you need it if you’re going to keep training.”

With that, they part ways. Uryu feels several emotions all trying to bubble to the surface at once and firmly stomps them back down, wondering what possessed him to say any of those things to his father. Their relationship has been nothing but strained and even Ryuken’s assistance in helping him regain his Quincy abilities, nursing him through the injury he sustained at the hands of Kugo Ginjo, and giving him the arrow to defeat Yhwach could not make up for the years of coldness and distance between the two of them.

Why did it matter to him if Ryuken cared if he lived or died? Uryu had been living his life with the belief that his father dying would be the best thing to ever happen to him.

_ It’s only logical to be feeling these emotions in the wake of what I went through tonight, _ he tells himself, pulling his glasses off to rub at his eyes. He’s tired, bone-deep exhausted and wants nothing more than to sink into bed at this point.  _ The likelihood of death is high in this mission, even if we succeed. At least now he knows what it means if I do not come back. I can’t say the same for the others. They might never forgive me for it. _

If it had been Uryu’s choice, he would have ridden into battle with all of his friends, but the situation didn’t really allow for something like that. Orihime was profoundly powerful, of course, but she was in love with a shinigami, and though Rukia was never afraid to violate the rules as necessary now, Soul Society was her home and it would be a spit in her face to undermine all of the hard work her former captain had done to save her home. Ichigo is… No.  _ No. _ And he needs Chad here to take care of him while he recovers.

Uryu has to do this alone, and he has to keep it to himself. His friends were allies of Soul Society, and how could he ever ask Ichigo to have sympathy for the man who was responsible for the deaths of their mothers? Masaki’s death was his main motivation.

By the time he makes it back to his apartment, Uryu can barely stand. He tosses his ripped and bloody clothing in the trash can and drags himself into a hot shower because he’s sweaty and gross and finally dresses so he can crawl into bed. His phone says it is now after four when he plugs it in and he laughs at the thought, never one for long or late nights unless it was absolutely necessary. He’d be having a lot of them because nightfall was the best time to train with the Espada. Everyone else was asleep now.

He realizes he has a text message he missed and he drags his phone closer to answer it, tapping the button. His heart slams into his throat at full force a second later.

The message was sent hours ago and comes from Chad’s phone, a picture of Ichigo cuddled up against his side and asleep. His hair is softly mussed but his face is peaceful, the most peaceful it’s looked in a long time. There’s also a suspicious looking bruise on his neck but Uryu supposes he knows where that comes from, scrubbing his eyes at the thought.

_ That’s my motivation for coming back alive, _ he thinks, locking his phone and setting it on the table beside his bed.  _ If I die, I won’t ever get to explain to them. I won’t get to see him recover. And that’s my motivation to succeed. To create a world where Kurosaki Ichigo never needs to raise a hand to fight these battles ever again. _

Uryu is too tired to consider looking into his Inner World tonight, his eyes already fluttering shut the moment he lays his head on the pillow properly. His bed isn’t large enough for three people, he thinks, embarrassed at himself for even thinking about that at all. But, well… It had been big enough when it counted. Maybe they can make it work.

He still remembers the night Ichigo came to him, the path of his fingers along sun-kissed skin that should have been scarred but was blessedly smooth and flawless because of just how hard Orihime worked to heal him every time. Another justification to come back successful and alive, he supposes. He wants to do that again. He wants to touch Ichigo’s body so many times that he could form a map of it in his mind.

On that note, Uryu slips off to a sleep far sweeter than one he deserves considering just how much he’s been lying to the men he loves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm changing the rating from T to M in the interest of i want to post a lot more fighting and violence and it's not like ulquiorra is going to be kind, he's very much like "if he dies he dies." also it's me and i feel like at some point there's going to be sexual content to don't be surprised if it upgrades to E at some point.
> 
> i feel like it's very obvious why isshin would have a pet name/nickname for ryuken.
> 
> i'm going to be switching to ichigo's point of view for a while and so like a fair blanket warning: he's depressed as hell, so there's going to be some sad fucking shit ahead.
> 
> i also tend to agree with all of you that think uryu should be honest with chad and ichigo about what's going on but i hope this chapter conveys why uryu doesn't see including his friends as an option in this fight. yeah the royal guard are tough but yhwach's men already beat them once so it's not like they're unbeatable.


End file.
